


The Apple Doesn't Fall Far

by StaziDie



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bonding, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illegitimate Pines Child, M/M, OC Insert into Series, Pines Family, The Return of Bill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22415248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaziDie/pseuds/StaziDie
Summary: Stan Pines was a con man before coming to Gravity Falls leaving a trail of crime, debts, and broken hearts in his wake. But years later something from that life arrives late one evening on his door step. While this new addition to his life could complicate his quest to retrieve Ford and the following events beyond imagination he cant help but be curious. Stan's life and Gravity Falls will never be the same.(Read the notes for a better explanation of this chaos I have created)
Relationships: "Manly" Dan Corduroy/Original Female Character(s), Stanley 'Stan" Pines & Original Character
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	1. Harvest Season

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y’all so this is my first time posting something on here so bare with me. This started as a small late night ‘hey what if' AU that kinda snowballed into a something that spans the series and moves beyond it. It started out simple but has evolved to include (but not limited to) the Whole Pines Family, Bill, Manly Dan* (because he’s a damned good character that has endless potential for development beyond just shipping with Tyler no matter how cute that is), and an endless list of other crazy random crap. So with that being said I decided to post it here just because someone might enjoy it. Please feel free to let me know what you think**.   
> The first half of the first chapter was posted originally on Tumbler with the title 'I have no bloody idea what to call this; The Gravity Falls Fanfiction.'***
> 
> And without further ramblings I present this chaotic creation.

**June 2009**

“...and remember no refunds,” Stan called as the last group of tourists left for the day. It was peak season for them and he’d made a killing in the last week. Closing the door to the gift shop he let out a long low groan as he stretched. Glancing over at the cash register he threw a half smile at the red headed girl who stood behind it. He’d hired Wendy Cordery at the beginning of the summer when he’d over heard her and complaining loudly that Dan had told her to find a job or he was sending her upstate to his brother’s logging cam. She was a hard worker and didn’t give him too much lip, he could see her working out well.

“Good work today kid. You better be getting home before it gets dark or yur Dad will come looking for me,” he told in a gruff but affectionate voice causing her to smile as she made a bee line for the door, “Soos come give Wendy a ride home then go home,” he called glancing out at the creeping twilight. He didn’t care if the girl had run wild in the woods her whole life he didn’t want her running around by herself at dark. It seemed the weirdness was always more active in the summer and that creepy moth guy had been around the shack the last few nights batting at the lights the marked the drive. Sure he seemed harmless enough but he didn’t want to risk it. Like magic his faithful man child appeared out of thin air.

“Sure thing Mr. Pines. See you tomorrow dude,” he laughed cheerfully as he too headed for the door. As the bell jingled behind the young man Stan let out another heavy sigh locking it. He should be heading down to the basement; he had found a cash of maps last week behind a pile of barrels that might give him a lead to the other books. Looking at the vending machine he decided he should at least eat something first; today had been long and tomorrow would be too.

Wandering into the kitchen he opened the door of the fridge and peered in. A handful of Pitt cola, a half empty bottle of ketchup, and a carton of take out from Greasy’s that was probably old enough to vote stared back at him from the shelves. Deciding that food was over rated anyways he moved a few cans before finding the last survivor of a six pack of Hairy Lager. Cracking the beer open he shuffled into the living room and flopped down in his chair. He’d just rest a minute before heading down he told himself as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Taking a drink he loosened his tie slouching heavily into the familiar cushions.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat but it felt like an eternity and an instant before his ears perked up. It was faint but the sound of the woods at twilight was broken by the rumble of a distant engine. It approached and he hoped it was just one of he local teens on a dirt bike but a moment later the engine cut off outside the shack. He heard the crunch of boots on gravel as who ever it was moved towards the door, he’d already shut the lights off and flipped the sign so he figured whoever it was would see that and turn around. His theory was disproved a moment later by three loud knocks. Growling he didn’t bother to move until the knocks came again a bit louder.

“WE’RE CLOSED!” he barked annoyed at the disturbance. A split second of silence came before another series of knocks this one heavier and more insistent. Growling he pushed himself up, he was in no mood for this. Turning to the door his hand went to his pocket slipping the knuckle dusters that rested there on just in case.

“I said we’re closed so go fu…,” he trailed off as he wrenched the door open only to fall silent at the woman he found there. She was tall for a woman and built like a brick house; broad shoulders and an ample chest that was all but spilling out of the dark colored tank top she wore. Black cargos were slung low on wide hips and he couldn’t help but notice that she had legs for days. Big green eyes stared at him with a gaze that was sharp and a touch shrewd as full lips the color of cherries pulled into a determined line. A mess of coal black hair was pulled away from her face in a sloppy bun giving him full view of high cheek bones, arched brows, and a strong jaw that tapered down into a point. Her nose was a bit pronounced but not in an unattractive way with a slender bridge though his years of boxing told him that it had been broken at least once.

In fact she looked a bit rough over all with a faint scar that looked like a bullet wound on hip peaking out from the sliver of exposed skin at her waist line and the sleeve of bright tattoos that covered her right arm. Over all she was a looker, a bit reminiscent of the pin ups from his high school days but with a harder edge. And too young for him to have any real interest besides looking. While she looked old enough to drink and maybe rent a car she didn’t look even half his age. And while he was a lot of things cradle robber wasn’t one of them. Shame in his younger days he would have killed to have such a woman knocking on his door at night.

“You Stanford Pines?” she asked the smooth southern drawl of her voice a bit surprising. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked her up and down again. There was something about her that was almost familiar and that sent up a few more red flags along with her question.

“Who’s askin’?” he demanded and a slight smirk pulled at the corner of her lips as she took a deep breath as though to steady herself for something.

“I’m Billie…errr Willimina Pisano,” she told him in a matter a fact tone, “Your niece.”  
  


“What?” he said dumbly staring at her. Shermie had one son and that was it. Not that his older brother had been the sort to sleep around (that had always been Stan if he was honest), and the idea that Sixer would have even taken the time to look at a woman let alone sleep with one was absurd. Given that he cocked a brow in suspicion as he looked down at her.

“I think you got the wrong guy,” he said and her jaw tightened a fraction.

“Look about 29 years ago your brother Stanley and my ma had a fling. Needless to say it didn’t last, and by the time she knew I was around..,” she rolled one shoulder in a dismissive shrug, “Let’s just say she had better things to do then bother with somethin’ as trivial as trying to let him know,” she finished a certain venom to the words. Not that he took much notice. If what she said was true then Ford _was_ her uncle; except he wasn’t really Ford. Composing himself he crossed his arms to look at her coldly.

“That’s quite a calm, you got any proof?” he asked coolly even as panic lights and sirens went off in his brain. A sly smirk pulled at her lips that felt too familiar as she jerked her head to the side in acknowledgement of his question.

“You’re some fancy scientist, right? There’s a specific recessive gene in roughly 3% of the population that can cause fully formed extra digits. The Pine’s family carries this gene. But you already know that, right Stanford?” she chuckled as she held up her left hand. A left hand that had six fingers splayed out for him to see. His eyes skipped over the digits counting them over and over again as his heart plummeted into his stomach only to crawl up into his throat and stick there. Giving him an uncomfortable smile she dropped her hand tucking it in her pocket as she continued.

“That aside your brother’s DNA was in the Feral System due to…extralegal activities. I know a guy who owed me a favor so I had it tested. I got a copy if you wanna see it,” she told him as she withdrew an envelope from her back pocket with her other hand and tossed it on the table inside the door. His eyes snapped from her pocket up to her face as she waited in stony silence. Staring at her wide eyed and slack jawed he realized what was familiar about her; _she looked like his mother_. And now that he saw it he couldn’t _unsee_ it. And that meant…. Shaking himself he refused to finish that thought.

“Ho…why? Why are you here?” he stammered and she gave another half shrug.

“Well my kidney’s are failing and close relatives are most likely to be a match,” she trailed off and he felt the blood drain from his face. She stood for a split second staring at him before she let out a sharp bark of laughter. “Relax, I’m kiddin’. Look I don’t want nothin’ from yuh. I know Stanley died a few years after I was born in a car crash. I don’t expect you to do anything about this I just figured you might wanna know,” she told him calmly, “You know in case you need a kidney some day. Now given you look like yur about to pass out I’ll be takin’ my leave. I’ll be at the Twin Bed outside of town if you…y’know have any questions. If you don’t I understand, and you’ll never see me again,” she told him giving a half wave with her left hand before turning on her heel. His eyes followed her as she sauntered off the porch over to the bike he’d heard earlier, a Sportster from the 70’s he noted absently. Hoping nimbly onto it the machine roared to life and she took off like a bat out of hell down the road that lead to the Shack.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood in the doorway staring down the empty road but by the time he moved the sun had long vanished and the stars shone brightly over head. Closing the door he locked it and headed for the living room all thoughts of the maps gone from his head. His legs felt like lead as he returned to his chair sitting down heavily, only to quickly stand back up and snatch the envelope from beside the door. Retreating to his chair one more he all but ripped the paper out and read it. Then reread it only to repeat the process about a dozen times. Choking a little he slumped back into the cushions his eyes finally focusing on the lifeless TV. Staring at the blank screen he couldn’t manage to form a coherence thought as he reached over and brought his now warm beer to his lips. Swallowing the whole thing in three gulps he set it down heavily.

“Fuck,” he said to his reflection in the dark glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eventually. Like I said there's a fair amount that happens in the time line of the series and while Dan makes a few appearances the series era posts will focus more on the Pines family dynamics and the Dan OC story line picks up after the series.
> 
> **Trolls and Flamers will be unceremoniously ignored, because I seriously have better things to do than feed you
> 
> ***I said I'd get around to it and I did...eventually. I have a million talents coming up with snazzy eye catching titles isn’t one. I'm not even 100% sure that the current title is all that great. Don’t judge me I'm and author not a PR person.


	2. One Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan knows he should just leave well enough alone. He shouldn't add anymore to his plate then he has to. And she's a grown woman not some kid. He just needs to find out how she found him, after all if one surprise from his past could find him maybe some of he less desirable things could too. That's it. One conversation and he would be done.

“Soos watch the Shack. I’m going out,” Stan barked as he headed out the door. The young man’s surprised but excited affirmative barely registered as he climbed into the Diablo and started it up. This was insane, it was noon on a Saturday in peak tourist season he should be leading tours and fleecing rubes. He shouldn't even be bothering with the woman. As far as she and the rest of the world were concerned Stanley was dead. The woman had already given him a free pass. She’d told him she’d understand if he didn’t come looking for her and bowed out. He had too many things on his plate; he had a lie to maintain to the world while trying to figure out the damned portal. She’d said he’d never see her again and he honestly believed her.

And that was why he was doing this wasn’t it? Because he couldn’t just leave well enough alone. He was far too curious, he’d always wanted kids when he was younger. He’d secretly wanted the whole shebang; a sweet little wife, a few kids, a house down the street from Sixer and his research. Of course that had derailed when he’d been kicked out and he realized he wasn’t exactly fatherly material. Worthless just like the old man said.

In retrospect he should have considered he might have a kid out there somewhere. He had spent many night is beds that weren't his own in search of warmth or some kind of fleeting companionship. And while he had normally taken steps to prevent such an outcome he had slipped up a few times. And with a list of one night stands a long as a New York phone book the odds had stacked against him. Still it hadn't really been a thought until last night when Stanley Pine’s illegitimate daughter came knocking on his door. _His_ daughter.

The thought was still like a cold bucket of water every time. At first he’d tried to figure out how it wasn’t true. The test had been wrong after all paternity test were only 99.9% positive. She didn’t look _that_ much like his mother her eyes had been brown like Ford’s and his. And the fact that she had six fingers…that was just a coincidence. Yeah, and pigs could fly while singing opera. He’d tried all night to find a lie convincing enough, but had failed miserably. Turned out 40 years of lying about everything wasn’t even enough practice when his own child was staring into his face.

And how the hell had she even found him? Seriously he hadn't gone by Stanley Pines for years especially when it came to women. Couldn’t risk dragging them into the shit show that was his life from the poor decision to spend a night or two with him. Yet somehow she’d not only managed to find out who he was but to track his ‘brother’ down in the middle of nowhere with _proof._ How the hell had she managed that? What kind of ‘friends’ did she have that obtaining federal evidence was possible? Was that even legal?

Not that she looked like she would have a problem if it wasn’t. While he knew that reading a book by its cover was never a good idea she looked rough. It wasn’t just her appearance either. There had been a hardness to her eyes that he knew too well came from years of running in dark alleys and knowing all the wrong people. And her voice had an edge to it beneath that southern drawl she had. The kind of edge that spoke of slit throats, gun fights, and darkness.

Pulling into the Twin Bed’s parking lot he spotted her bike in front of room six. He was sure there was some kind of irony or poetry or whatever in that. Shifting into park he took a deep breath.

One conversation to get some answers. That was all. He needed to know how she found him, after all if she’d dome it maybe someone else could. Sure, she thought he was Ford, but still his past coming back to haunt him in anyway was the last thing he need. That was why he was here…for answers.

Wow… a lie he almost believed.

“You can do this, Stanley. In and out,” he said as he switched off the car, but he couldn’t bring himself to get out. This was insane. He should just leave the woman be, he didn’t need more complications. Besides what could he give her besides trouble. Shaking himself his hand raised to start the car but the door to room six opened and he froze. His daughter stepped out shoving unruly black curls out of her face as she squinted up at the sun. Shaking her head she pulled something out of her pocket and lit a cigarette. Slouching against the wall she rolled her shoulders and stared off into the woods and Stan knew he couldn’t leave. Groaning he climbed out of the car and slammed the door causing her head to snap over to his direction. He froze for a split second feeling her eyes boring into him.

Smoothing his face into his mask he strode towards her calm and collected even as his brain screamed for him to run the other direction. Twenty seven steps is what it took to reach her. For a moment they just stood staring at each other before she exhaled a cloud of smoke away from him.  
“Well, if I was a betting woman I’d have lost,” she said with a smirk, “So…uhhh nice day, huh?”

“Uhhhh yeah real…uhhhh sunny,” he replied rubbing the back of his neck nervously. A heavy silence descended as they stared at each other. A few awkward moments passed before she stubbed the cigarette out on her boot and cleared her throat.  
“Look I think I’m gonna need a beer for this. You?” she said cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” he said and relief flashed on her face and he let out the breath he’d been holding.  
“Well come on in,” she said as she opened the door to her room. It was small and tidy with a twin bed and a dressed with an old TV perched on top of it. In the corner was a small table with two chairs and a mini fridge. Walking over she pulled two bottles out and popped the tops before sitting down and sliding one over towards him. Taking a seat he nodded his gratitude as he picked it up as she took a long sip of her own. Following suit he stared at her wondering how he had missed how much she looked like Ma.  
“So I’m sure you have a million questions so go ahead and ask away,” she said and he considered where to start.

“Sure, so uhhh how’d you find me? I mean Stanley wasn’t exactly…,” he trailed off causing her to smile.

“Forth coming with his identity,” she finished for him chuckling, “Well yeah it took a while. He told my mother his name was Stetson Pinesworth,” she admitted, “But I’m a professional P.I. so I was able to follow the strings. Once I chased down his real name it was relatively easy to find you and your older brother Sherman. I considered not going any further but…,” she shrugged, “I thought y’all might want to know that Stanley had some small part of him out there even though it seems like…he was a bit of a black sheep so to say. And I chose to come find you instead of Sherman because I figured with you being a genius and all you could make a call on if Sherman and his kid needed to know. Plus I admit I was curious of what my father looked like and since you’re twins…,” she told him with a shrug and and awkward smile as she took another drink. Letting out a huff of laughter at that he grinned back. He noticed that her words were more precise then yesterday and that her accent seemed to all but disappear. _So this is her professional voice_ , he thought taking another small sip.

“Well sorry it couldn’t be more appealing kid. I wish I could say you got lucky and took after your mother but truth is you look like our Ma when she was young,” he said and she laughed putting him a bit more at ease.

“T’ain’t that bad. It takes a special kind a looks to rock a fez,” she added with a smirk a bit of her drawl slipping through.  
“Hey it sells the Mr. Mystery a bit more,” he replied, “So yur ma was…,” he asked and she scowled slightly.

“Mary Pisano. She wasn’t…the motherly type. Drink and drugs were way more interesting then her kids. Far as I can guess she got her claws into your brother at a bar and had some fun. I wouldn’t judge him too harshly if I were you though she was real good at that sort of thing. Poor sap probably had no idea what he was getting into,” she told him her voice hard and each word sharp, “She doesn’t really matter. By the time I was nine I was in the foster system. So there isn’t really much to know there,” she added and he took the hint that that wasn’t a subject she was real keen on talking about. Taking a drink he tried to remember her mother but the name meant nothing to him. He wished that he could honestly say that she’d been something special to him, one of the ones worth remembering but no. Just another nameless port of comfort in the sea of misery that was his life.

“Yeah, well he was a bit of a hound,” he said quickly taking another drink to cover his own discomfort.

“Like I said I cant blame him. She was beautiful and that can make any man stumble from time to time,” she said with a smile that he returned. For some reason the fact that she seemed to honestly mean those words made him feel a bit relieved that he didn’t recall her mother. 

“I suppose that’s right. After all there’s a million stories about men doing dumb shit because of a pretty girl. So you got any questions for me?” he asked and she shrugged.

“I mean yeah a million but I cant really think of them now. Like I said I never really expected you to come ‘round, and I would imagine you cant answer most of them since you ain’t him,” she admitted, “I guess…I really just want to know if he was a good man,” she said after a long moment of consideration. He felt his face fall at that. He wasn’t a good man, he was a liar that sold junk to tourists. And before he’d been…well just about everything except a good man.

“Well…,” he began but she waved her hand to silence him.

“Before you go getting all squirrelly on me I literally have a collection of files on his criminal record. He was a con among other things I know that. But just because he was a criminal doesn't mean that he was a bad man,” she told him and he felt his face twist in confusion causing her to let out a low chuckle, “Look I know that just because someone was a criminal doesn't mean they were all bad. You do what you gotta to survive. So I ain’t askin’ if he was law abidin’ I’m askin’ if he was a good man? If he had a good heart,” she explained and he stared at her mouth slightly agape for a long moment. He’d never though of it like that. Was he a good man? He certainly tried to be but he felt like he’d failed. Sure he’d never hurt anyone he didn’t have to or stolen from people who couldn’t afford it. But still…

“He tried to be,” he said finally, “I mean his heart was in the right place but it always seemed to go wrong. He wanted to make things right for the family but seemed to just fall from one bad situation to the next.I don’t know if that makes him good or not,” he added finally and she nodded.

“I would think it did. I mean my opinion is to judge more by intent not out come generally,” she said with a soft sigh, “The saying is that the road to hell is paved with good intentions, but I cant dismiss the intent just because the final destination sucks,” she told him evenly They lapsed into silence for a few minutes before she finished her drink and rose to get another. He watched her move to the fridge considering her. It was strange to him that she seemed so nonpulse about the whole thing. What kind of life had she led that she could calmly dismiss his criminal record so easily?

“I see you had your extra finger removed,” she said finally breaking the silence and pulling him from his thoughts. Looking up at her he realized that she was looking at the ‘surgical scars’ he’d given himself after the funeral. He’d done it because he was tired of wearing those damned gloves all the time around the family.

“Uhhh….yeah. They were starting to lock up and I figured it would be better to do it before they got real bad,” he said quickly hoping that she didn’t see right through the lie. She seemed to be able to read him, and he guessed if she was a PI she would have to be able to tell a lie when she heard one.

“Makes since. I mean I only have it on my left hand but the docs warned me that it was prone to arthritis. Figure I’ll deal with it if it happens until then,” she shrugged and he was a bit relieved that he had chosen the right excuse. “So I gotta say you’re pleasant enough to talk to but I’m thinkin’ maybe I ain’t ready for your brother and his family just yet,” she admitted suddenly and he blinked in surprise.

“What? Why?” he asked wondering if he’d done something wrong.

“It isn’t you,” she laughed seeming to read his feelings again, “It’s me. I’ve always been out on my own. Which was fine. I’m a big girl, but I’m finding talking to you is…a lot. His family seems pretty close knit where as you seem a bit more of a loner…another reason I decided to talk to you. The idea of being introduced to any more of you right now is…Unsettling. If you even think that he would care,” she told him with a grin.

“Shermie is a big softy, he’d love to have you around,” he assured he quickly, “I suppose you could say he’s the sentimental one out of us. But yeah I can see where you’re coming from,” he admitted thinking about it for a moment. Shermie had always been the glue the bound them together. He’d always made sure to stay in touch and insisted that Stan had a relationship with his nephew and the twins (to the point that violence had been threatened if he didn’t show up at family gatherings at least once in a while). After he’d faked his own death Sherman had seemed even more hell bent to keep keep the family together, if he found out that his ‘dead’ little brother had a daughter she’d be dragged into the fold kicking and screaming if necessary. And when Stan considered what she’d just said he could only imagine how uncomfortable that would be for her.

She gave him a grateful smile and opened her mouth to speak only to be cut off by her stomach letting out a loud gurgling sound. He almost laughed out loud as she pressed her hand lightly to her stomach her cheeks coloring a bit like a guilty child.

“Sorry, I haven’t eaten in..,” she paused appearing to think about it for a moment, “…a while? Time has gotten away from me lately,” she finished lamely. Cocking an eyebrow he gave an amused smile as he shook his head.

“Day drinking on an empty stomach, huh?” he said rhetorically as he stood up, ”Not a bright idea there kid. Come on. I’ll show you the best place in town,” he offered,”We can continue awkwardly staring at each other over food,” he added and she let out a bark of laughter that broke the tension he hadn’t realized had descended on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a random aside. I'm hoping to be able to get one or two chapters up a week, but real life is pure chaos so I cant promise anything. The majority of this story is written but I have to type it up as it currently resides in a handful of note books.


	3. May The Best Con Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's peek tourist season once again and the new Tent of Telepathy is putting a cramp in Stan's wallet. Billie's got a big idea on how to compete, but the question is can she pull it off. With Greasy's and bragging rights on the line the stakes are high as young and old go head to head. Who'll win?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, so this takes place after a bit of a time skip. While I know that time skips are like coma theories (as in a sort of cheap way out) this is meant to illustrate the sort of relation ship Bill and her 'uncle' are creating. It's a long one but gives some insight to the characters. I know not everyone is a fan of time skips but if I were to go from start to finish for this whole fic it would be longer then the whole Lord of the Rings series so forgive me. The next few chapters will all include some kind of time skip as the focus of them is more to establish and form relationships serving as kind of independent one shots instead of parts of the over arching story-line. I understand that this may be a bit unpopular but considering what's coming it seems the best way to structure it to achieve my end goal with out having it drag on forever. I told you this was going to get weird.   
>  Also as an aside, I know there were some grammar and spelling errors in the first two chapters, this is due in part to my normal Beta reader being unavailable (because adulting is time consuming). That being said I had a stand in look this over an took much more time in transcribing it so I hope most of the errors were addressed. And now onward to the insanity.

One Year Later  
  
  
  
Stan sat pantsless in the TV room wondering if this was what contentment felt like. Beside him on the floor sat Billie leaning back against the dinosaur skull staring at the trash TV that played across the screen. Murphy announced ‘you ARE NOT the father’ for the third time in a row and the young woman who sat beside him burst out crying as a man who looked like he should be selling used cars jumped up triumphantly to the jeers of the audience. Beside Stan, his ‘niece’ let out a sharp bark of laughter as she took a sip of her soda. He glanced at her and shook his head; she really was a strange one.  
  
In baggy basketball shorts and a tank top, he could see the mural of tattoos she sported. The sleeve on her right arm was actually a bed of colorful flowers and vines with skulls woven in, macabre but beautiful if he was honest. On her left shoulder was a raven’s head that looked like it was tearing through her flesh that was a little to photo-realistic for his taste. She also had a peacock on her left thigh with a long flowing tail that curved around to end on her knee cap, and a small green dog robot thing from some cartoon or other with the word ‘DOOM!!’ in crude childish letters on her right ankle. Wild black curls spilled over her shoulders in an unkempt mane and dark circles around her eyes told him that she had spent too long at the Skull Fracture last night getting rowdy with the lumberjacks.  
  
“Told you, Stan that means you’re picking up the tab at Greasy’s,” she told him cheerfully and he let out an exaggerated groan. He should know by now that betting against her was a fool errand. Over the last year, he’d learned a lot of things about Billie. Like she had no fixed address just various post office boxes, and instead, she lived out of a duffle bag and motel rooms. She worked for herself and seemed to make pretty decent money though he had all but confirmed his suspicion that she toed a very fine line between what was legal and what wasn’t. In truth, she played it pretty close to the vest when it came to discussing her work but she’d let a few things slip and he was willing to bet that she was a bloodhound at least part of the time. Someone that loan sharks and crime lords used to find people that didn't want to be found. A dangerous and ethically ambiguous profession at best. And while he couldn’t help but dislike that idea he couldn’t exactly say too much on the matter, instead of taking some small comfort in the fact that at least she wasn’t a full-fledged criminal like he’d been. Maybe if she had kids one day they’d manage to be upstanding members of society, but something told him she wasn’t the settling down type.  
  
Overall throughout seven visits and quite a few calls they had developed a comfortable relationship. After the fourth visit, he’d broken down and invited her to just come to stay at the Shack instead of staying at The Twin Beds. Which he regretted almost instantly; Wendy and Soos had both noticed at once and plied him with questions. Fortunately, Billie seemed to have inherited his Ma’s snake tongue and smoothly lied that she was the daughter of an old acquaintance that he was helping out with a place to stay between jobs without batting an eye. Soos and Wendy had been a bit wary of her at first, but they’d come to warm up to her.  
  
She tended to help around the shop and was generally amicable flashing charming smiles and quick wit to win them over. He was fairly certain she’d won over Wendy by covering for her so she could skip out to hang out with her friends a few times but couldn’t prove it. And Soos’s natural good nature had caused him to warm to her quickly, especially when she started helping him come up with and build new attractions for Stan to take credit for.  
  
When he wasn’t leading tours and she wasn’t off drinking and brawling with the bikers of the town (a pass time she seemed to enjoy a tad too much in his opinion) the two of them usually spent their time watching trash TV in between runs to Greasy’s diner and the bar. Though after she’d started staying with him he’d discovered that the woman could cook. He’d told her at one point that she didn’t need to but she’d shrugged it off with a smile and that cool laugh of hers saying ‘I spent enough nights hungry and cold that it’s a pleasure to be able to make a decent meal.’ That thought had given him pause to wonder what exactly she’d been through; her mother certainly sounded like a piece of work, but it seemed like so much more. But as much as he wanted to know he didn’t ask.  
  
In fact, he hardly asked her anything about her past and she in return didn’t ask about his. Instead, they had found a strange sort of comfort in each other's company. Two broken people who had had hard lives that could spend time around the other without pretending to be anything more than they were. The first few visits they'd both been on their best behavior, Billie had kept her habits of beer and brawling to herself and he had cut back on the cigar and shoplifting. But after an incident involving Billie sucker-punching a guy for asking her if she wanted to come back to his room and put a smile on her pretty face after which Stan had declared it was time to leave snatching the guy's wallet as they fled they had come to a silent agreement that they didn't need to put on 'upstanding citizens' acts anymore. He had thought a few times that he vaguely remembered that this strange feeling of accepting each other for who they were was what family had felt like back when Ford and he had been children, but he couldn’t quite be sure.  
  
“Earth to Stan,” Billie’s smooth southern drawl broke through his thoughts pulling him back to find her head cocked staring up at him one brow cocked curiously, “You didn't hear a damned word I said did yuh?” she asked a smirk pulling on her lips.  
  
“Naw, I was too busy thinking how sick I’m gonna feel at dinner so I cant go to Greasy’s,” he told her to cover his sappy musing. She rolled her eyes as she shook her head.  
  
“The most expensive thing on the menu is 15 dollars. I know you're cheap but…,” she began only to be interrupted as an obnoxious commercial can on the volume raising ten octaves.  
  
“Are you completely miserable?” came Bud Gleeful’s voice.  
  
“Well I am now,” she growled putting one hand over her ear and glaring at the TV as the commercial played. Watching she cocked an eyebrow as Stan’s picture flashed up to be stamped with ‘FRAUD’, “What bullshrimp is this?” she asked incredulously, “That the chubby car salesman? He’s ten times the liar yuh are, how the hell does he have the gall to call yuh out like that?”  
  
“I know, right? At least my customers have some interesting stories to go with the junk I sell them,” he said indignantly, “And what’s worse is it’s working. He’s got his kid pretending to be psychic and the tourists are eating it up. Heck, even the locals are. Putting a real cramp in my wallet. I wish there was something I could do to hit him hard but nothing seems to be working. Even the Squid-abitt isn’t enough,” he railed shaking his head. Beside him, Billie cocked her head one eye squinted in thought as she stared at the TV.  
  
“What about someone who can talk ta the dead?” she asked and his head snapped over to her his eyebrows shooting up.  
  
“What? Well, yeah that would be a real money maker but who the hell do I know that can do that?” he scoffed as he took a drink of his soda, “Even I can't pull that off.”  
  
“I can,” she said matter factly and his face pulled into a look of bored skepticism.  
  
“Yeah, and I can teach a pig to fly,” he snorted and she looked up at him that sly smirk of hers slowly crawling over her lips.  
  
“Ya wound me, Stanford. I’m from the south where snake oil peddlers are ah’ dime ah’ dozen. Hell Bud’s one that’s why he’s pulling this off so well,” she told him in a slightly condescending tone, “Tell you what I’ll go double or nothing on Greasy’s. If I can give yuh a two-night show that will make more then you do in the same two days. That means two dinners at Greasy’s and braggin’ rights from now until the end of the world,” she challenged and he couldn’t help the lopsided grin that pulled at his lips.  
  
“Only if you get it up and running by Saturday,” he added, that would give her the rest of the night and tomorrow to prepare. Not to mention that those were the moneymaker days with tour buses on top of regular foot traffic. A challenge he was sure even she couldn’t pull off but she just grinned and put her hand out.  
  
“Prepare ta eat crow, Stanford Pines,” she told him as he grasped her hand causing him to let out a sharp hoarse laugh.  
  
“Even you aren’t that good kid,” he sniped unable to help the smug laugh that escaped him at the fire that lit in her eyes at his challenge.  
  
“Oh you’re fixin’ ta eat those words old man,” she warned as she hopped to her feet.  
  
“Hey what about dinner,” he barked as she turned on her heel to head up to the attic.  
  
“Time is money, Stanford. Order Chinese from that there place at the mall, card’s by the phone,” she snapped as she hustled off to get started. Watching her go he couldn’t help but smile. She really was something else, and he’d managed to get dinner without paying for it.  
  
~*~

  
A day and a half…that was all he’d given her. And now he was thinking that had been too much time. The woman had to be some sort of witch. There was no other explanation as to how literally overnight she’d managed to pull this off. By Friday morning there had been flyers plastered all over town with the simple drawing of a closed eye with the words ‘Esmeralda. Two nights only at the Mystery Shack.’ And apparently, somehow everyone in town had heard the whispers about a real live gypsy that could talk to the dead by noon (he had a theory that Billie had somehow gotten Wendy to help her spread the word but once again couldn’t prove it). By Friday night there was a deceptively large tent set up around the totem pole that looked like it had come out of some storybook. It would have been impressive if he didn’t feel the impending loss breathing down his neck.  
  
His one hope was that she wouldn't be able to pull off the act; after all, she had become someone the locals recognized by now so they surely wouldn't buy it when they saw her. That was until he’d come downstairs Saturday morning to find a gypsy woman sitting at the table nursing a cup of coffee. Her skin held an olive tint, her eyes a rich deep brown, and her curly black mane was held away from her face by a scarf. She wore a frilled white shirt that hung off one shoulder and a skirt made up of layers of gauzy material in a rainbow of colors with a coin skirt hung low on her hips. Bangles crowded her wrists and a few on her ankle making her every movement musical. Staring at her she flashed him a bright grin.  
“Good morning Mr. Mystery I’m Esmeralda and I speak to the other side,” she greeted him in an accent that was European but not too strong. Staring at her it took him a minute to realize that she was his daughter. What gave it away was the bandage on her left hand, it was neatly wrapped and wouldn't be worth much note if he didn’t see the slight bump where her extra finger was folded across her palm to hide it. Shaking his head he stared open mouth at her, she looked like a cliche and it was brilliant. The tourist would eat it up.  
  
“How?” he demanded his voice cracking in indignant awe causing her to chuckle.  
  
“Lots of foundation, contacts, and years of practicing a dozen accents,” she told him smugly in that outrageous but somehow totally believable accent, “You can always admit defeat now Stan and I will only demand one of my dinners,” she offered.  
  
“No way toots. You never call a fight early,” he replied and she shrugged as she took another sip of her coffee. Arrogance rolled off her and he let out a low grumble, while he could appreciate her confidence speaking to the dead was a tall order. He opened his mouth to say something to her when Wendy's voice came from the gift shop.  
  
"Stan a tour bus just pulled up!"  
  
Glancing at 'Esmeralda' she flashed a wicked smile as she stood in a rattle of bangles and rolled her shoulders. Looking him up and down she couldn't help the smirk that pulled at her lips.  
  
"May the best con win, " she laughed resting all her weight in on hip as she stretched. Stan couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter that rose in him as a competitive fire lit in him.  
  
"Age and treachery with overcome youth and exuberance every time, " he reminded her and she shrugged as she moved to slip out the back door. Watching her go he shook his head getting his cane and flipping his eye patch down, he had to admit having some competition was making the day a bit more exciting.  
  
The next 10 hours were a whirlwind of activity as a flood of tourists poured through. He spun his stories with a flare he hadn't felt in years as Esmeralda flittered about. He had to admit that she was good; adding some rustic flare to his stories telling of sighting of the Cat-a-peid in the 'old country' and backing up the claim that the magic crystal they sold were steeped in the mystical energy of the forest. Between the two of them, they managed to create a fevered excitement in the visitors who all but threw their money at Wendy.  
  
But even as he reveled in what were surely record profits he couldn't help but notice that all of Billie's help was a double-edged sword. Even as she hyped his attractions she filtered about reading palms and offering charms that she made appear from her skirt. Shiny rocks and crudely carved figures on a bit of string, things he recognized from the bulk supply warehouse he bought his own junk from. A ten here and a twenty there that she slipped away with a smile and an offer to come see her tonight as the spirts had many messages and perhaps one was for them. And he finally got to see her speak to the dead, at least that was what it looked like.  
  
Gravitating to a cluster of tourists she placed a hand on her temple as she closed her eyes. Letting out a humming sound she peered up at the curious group.  
  
"There is a woman. Older, matronly who wishes to speak to one of you. Some connection with the letter T, " she said softly as she hummed again pausing for dramatic effect, "A name or hobbies maybe. Teresa. Or Teapots. Or Tammy. Or trains...tarting. Tabatha, maybe. I'm sorry it's hard to hear her. Her voice is a soft one but warm like..., " he began only to have one if the men, a middle-aged guy speak up suddenly.  
  
"Thelma?" he asked suddenly, "My Mema was named Thelma, " he said excitedly and a murmur went through the crowd. Billie smiled softly as though listening to someone speak before nodding.  
  
"Yes, Thelma. She passed suddenly, but not unexpectedly right, " she told him and he nodded his face pinching ever so slightly with emotion.  
  
"In her sleep, but she was 98," he supplied and Billie smiled gently as she nodded.  
  
"She wants you to know that it was painless and she is at peace, " she told him kindly as she shifted as though leaning closer to someone to hear, "She says that you're worrying over something financial. A promotion or payment of some sort. You are concerned that it won't happen, that it keeps you up at night. You are sleeping and it worries her. Do you know what she's talking about?" she asked and he nodded silently the crowd around him starting in wonder.  
  
"Ye...yea. I know what she's talking about, " he choked and Billie nodded sympathetically,  
  
"She says that you don't need to worry. That it will all work itself out. She says to tell you to have faith, that God wouldn't have you face a trial you could not handle, " she said her eyes flattering closed once more, "She says she loves you and that you need to read for your own health."  
  
For a moment silence hung in the air before the man moved forward and threw his arms around Billie thanking her. Around them, the crowd had tripled in size and an excited clamor rose from them all talking at once. It was amazing and a total sham. He'd seen this sort of psychic before, they were all over daytime TV. And while he had no idea how they did it he knew in his bones they were fakes. But even so, the audiences ate it up including the one now swarming around Billie.  
  
"Oh she's good, " he growled as he stood watching her work the crowd telling them that she would speak to the spirits tonight and they were welcome to come, no latter than 7 and cash only for her small admission fee. She only asked 20 dollars so she could continue her travels. And every single one ate it up like starving men. She smiled at just the right moments and spoke just the right word.  
  
And that when it hit him. This wasn't her first time pulling this con. She was poised and practiced like she did this every day. This was an old hand to her, a well-practiced grift not some idea she"d randomly thrown out. He'd assumed she was just winging it, she was a PI not a psychic. At least she was now. Just like he was Mr. Mystery now. But before that, he'd been a lot of other things. And it appeared before being a PI Bill had been other things as well. In that moment he realized that he'd been played, that he'd assumed she'd been bluffing without knowing her tells. She was a con artist just like him, and he should have known. Betting against her was a fools errand, and not just when it came to daytime talk shows. She was his daughter after all, and it seemed some of his talents had passed on.  
  
~*~  
  
Billie sighed as she she leaned against the support of the porch, a cigarette in one hand and a can of Pitt cola in the other. She felt like a whole new person after a hot shower to wash off the ton of bronzer and foundation she’d used to make her pale skin darker. It was nice to be out of that stupid heavy skirt and back in sweats and a t-shirt. Pre-dawn just started to brush the sky above the trees with thin lines of pinks and oranges the trees shadows stretched out like fingers of darkness trying to resist the coming day. It got light so early up here it made her feel like it was later (or earlier) then 3:30 in the morning. It really was beautiful though, like a Rob Boss painting. She had to admit when she’d first rolled into the little Organ town the year before she had found the picture perfect place a bit unsettling. It had been the plan to show up meet Stan and never look back, after all she’d never thought he would want anything to do with his brother’s vagabond daughter. Guess that’s what she got for thinking. It turned out her uncle seemed to want something to do with her after all, and surprisingly she wanted something to do with him.

After her research she had expected to find a cold logical man who had no room for sentimentality. While she knew scientific papers were written specifically lacking any emotion his had seemed extra sterile. Even the forwards to the where normally the researcher had some kind of tone had been devoid of anything to give her a glimpse of personality. But instead she had found a man who was the furthest thing from a cold clinical researcher. He was warm in a gruff kind of way and she liked it. It occurred to her that the time line of his published works ending and the Murder Shack coming into being seemed to overlap with Stanley’s death. Perhaps, the sudden change in profession had also been a sudden change in personality, grief was a powerful thing after all.

Or perhaps he’d simply decided that this strange little corner of the world was too wonderful to waste with his head buried in in books. And it _was_ wonderful. And weird. Over her first few visits she’d began noticing strange shadows and odd movement in the trees. And while she’d written off the little men she’d seen rummaging in the diner’s dumpster and the Moth Man she’d seen batting at a street light outside the hotel one night to tricks of the mind and the local legends getting to her, she’d quickly realized there was something inherently odd to the place. Not bad just odd. But once she’d come down one morning to find Stan luring a walking camp fire out from under the porch with marshmallows she’d realized it wasn’t in her head. Instead she had decided that she rather liked this place, after all she was an odd person so she didn’t feel so out of place. It was like she could breath freely in this strange little town with her eccentric uncle.

Her uncle, that was still a strange thought. Billie had never really had a family, her mother had always been too busy being a drunken whore druggie to be anything else. And while she technically had four older siblings they’d all been to busy finding their own way to survive to bother with anything as trivial as bonding. Hell, after she’d been taken into state custody she hadn’t seen any of them for years, a few she still hadn’t seen even after all these years. It had always been her, she’d learned early to never depend on anyone else. Survival was the end game and others had always been passing acquaintances to her. But for some reason she kept coming back here, kept calling to check in on Stan. Perhaps, it was that he never asked any questions or judged her for smoking and drinking. Or maybe it was that she knew that the tired eyes and world weary voice she had was a mirror of his. Not that it mattered, she had come to really appreciate the time she spent with the old con.

It was a nice change of pace. Most people seemed to think that being a PI was like the movies; chasing down leads, sneaking around to get photos, and all that, but it wasn’t. While sure it had its exciting moments (especially when it came to some of her less than reputable clients) it was a lot of time sitting around and waiting for someone to show up. It was digging through mountains of trash and public records to find a lead. It was asking a lot of questions that never got answered to people who didn’t want to talk to you. Over all it was exhausting in more ways then one. She’d always spent her time between jobs partying or holed up in a hotel room getting stoned and sleeping, but now she found coming here to be a much better past time.

There was always some new creation Stan was working on or some project to help Soos with. She had found walks in the woods were eventful as she seemed to run across odd little creatures and weird rocks no matter what direction she went. Even when it was boring around the Shack she at least had company. And Stan sure made for interesting company. He was always ready to snipe at each other or make stupid bets over anything. Heck, the last two days had been the most fun she’d had in years. She had enjoyed watching the old con slowly realized that this wasn’t her first rodeo, though, she knew she had shown her hand and he wouldn’t fall for it again.

Then again even _she_ was surprised she’d pulled it off. While the gypsy shtick had been something she’d acquired as a teenager the rest had been dumb luck. She was constantly surprised that for such a nowhere town Gravity Falls seemed to have _everything_. 24 hour copy shop to make the flyer? Yup, Shenkos beside the mall. Party rental shop with a thematically appropriate tent? You bet. Costume shop? Yup. Local teenagers willing to spread rumors and wield social media like a finely honed weapon for $20 bucks? Well, everywhere had those but Wendy was a sweet kid who seemed more then willing to recruit help. It just went to show that helping the kid ditch work a few times had been a good idea. Still, some how it had all come together and she’d been able to back up her cocky words. Even with the expenses she’d pull in over a grand in a weekend beating Stan by a hundred buck and some change.

So she’d won, though, since she had told Stan to keep it since it was his customers to begin with she had basically bought herself two dinners and some expenses but useless bragging rights. In truth, she didn’t need the money, she got paid well for her work and had nothing to spend it one. She didn’t pay rent since she refused to settle, and aside from weekly hotels, food, and smokes she didn’t buy anything really. So she had a huge bank account that she just let sit for when she decided to retire. Plus, she’d liked the idea of helping Stan out, if in no other way then sticking it in Bud’s face. How dare he call Stan a fraud when he sold junk cars at astronomical prices? A small self aware part of her knew that she had done it because she cared about the old man, but she just ignored it.

Shaking her head she snorted, she had to be tired to be getting all introspective and squishy. Feelings weren’t her bag, she’d just done it for fun. At least that was what she told herself. Shifting slightly she groaned, her body felt heavy and her eyes kept trying to close. She was exhausted two days and nights of putting on a show took a lot out of a woman. Not to mention, she’d had to strike the tent after last night’s performance so the rental company could pick it up first thing, and of course she and Stan had sat up counting out their respective earnings. Stad had recounted hers twice growling she’d padded them, before finally admitting defeat. The look on his face had been worth it.

“Alright kid, how’d you do it?” came a gruff voice and the smell of cigar smoke pulling her eyes from the trees. Looking over at him she flashed a smile earning a half hearted scowl in response and a dismissive grunt, “Come on out with it. It’s only fair I know how I got beat.” Smirking she let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“It’s called cold reading,” she told him causing one of his eyebrows to shoot up in question, “You size up a crowd; age, clothes, general stuff you know. Then you throw out a line; something vague enough to not be a definitive statement but specific enough to be convincing. One you get a bite you reel them in, double talk so they tell you everything but it seems like you told it to them and bam you talked to their dead aunt,” she explained as she took a drink.

“Sounds like it would be easier to actually talk to the dead,” he grumbled, “Yur Grandmother would be proud. So where on earth did you learn to pull that off? It doesn’t seem like somethin’ you’d learn for a party trick,” he observed as he took a long puff off his cigar groaning as he settled back on the couch. Shrugging she sighed as she moved over to sit next to him staring out at the dark woods tucking one leg under her.

“When I was round about 16 I ran off from the group home. I was tired of being passed around homes like a fruit cake at Christmas yuh know. So I landed at a traveling fair after a while and met the Amazin’ Jezabel. She pulled the same gimmick and taught me how since my weird hand gav’ ah bit of a witchy vibe. I traveled with them for a year or two, ‘fore getting sick of making her a ton of money and gettin’ hog spit in return. I went out on my own and was good at it,” she told him cracking her neck a touch of melancholy settling over her as she recalled the days she spent running the con at fairs all over the south, “I probably could have gone on with it, got one of those shows on TV, but after a while people started coming to me looking for real answers. Sure, stuff like this weekend is fine. Tellin’ people that their grandma loves them or their dog is always hangin’ around them don’t hurt nothin’ It makes them happy, but when you have people comin’ to yuh lookin’ for their missing kid offering their life’s savin’s for answers it changes the game. I couldn’t bring mah’self ta lie to them. I didn’t want to give ‘em false hope so I quit. I was tryin’ to feed myself not cheat desperate people, yuh know?” she finished before calming up. She hadn’t needed to say all that, and it kinda broke the unspoken agreement they had to avoid anything too honest about themselves.

Glancing over she expected to find him either half listening to her ramble on or looking at her with the inscrutable look of mild disappointment he got when she came in half cocked with a split lip from brawling with the guys at the Skull Fracture. Instead his brows were furrowed and the corner of his lips pulled down in a half frown. It wasn’t that he looked disgusted at her words more…saddened by them. For a long moment they just stared at each other before he looked away taking a drink of his own soda.

“What?” she asked finally ignoring the slight feeling of insecurity that his silence had brought on.

“Nothin’. I was just thinking about your Dad,” he said his voice slightly rougher then normal, “That’s impressive though. You got any other tricks up your sleeve?”

“Naw, nothing worth noting,” she said as she looked away from him resting her elbow on the arm of the couch and leaning her head on it. For a moment they were silent, sitting there smoking before her eyes slid over to him again.

“What about him?” she asked unable to stop herself. While she excepted that Stanley was gone, and he seemed to be a subject Stanford didn’t seem keen on she couldn’t help but wonder about Stanley. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes knowing what she was asking at once. For a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer before he shrugged.

“Nothin’ really. Just that you’re a lot like him. He may have been a cheat and a liar but he never preyed on desperate people. He’d probably be proud of you for that,” he said as Billie barely suppressed the pleased smile that threatened to surface at his words, “Though if he’d have known about you’d you could bet you wouldn’t have even been in a position to have to decided who were acceptable marks,” he added under his breath like he was speaking to himself not her. Smiling she looked back out at the trees.

“Yeah well if that were the case I wouldn’t have been able to get some free meals and braggin’ right now would I?” she chuckled to break the heavy silence that had settled on them and she saw his lips twitch from the corner of her eye.

“Yeah, yeah live it up kid. You cheated and you know it. That was dirty trick, I wouldn’t have made that bet if I’d have know you were a professional psychic,” he grumbled and she chuckled as she finished her drink and stood stretching.

“I’m goin’ ta bed. I’m beat,” she announced with a small yawn, “You should get some sleep too, Stan yuh look like hell,” she added glancing down at him causing him to chuckle.

“You ain’t the boss ah me kid,” he grumbled as she couldn’t help the stern look that crossed her face causing him to laugh, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll finish then and head to bed,” he assured her waving his hand at her. Smiling she yawned again as she headed in.

“Night Stanford.”

“Night Billie.”


	4. The Girdle Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bille had a rough month and finds herself back in Gravity Falls. But now that she's here she wishes she wasnt. Planning on moving one she intends to head out but a snow storm has very different plans. 
> 
> ((Please read notes as chapter contains some mature themes and triggers))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so first off this one maybe a bit on the rough side as far as editing goes. My back up beta flaked on me and there was a whole slue of issues with even getting this to be able to post it (say it with me computer problems suck). Anyways this is a very Billie-centric chapter giving a bit more insight to her as a person and why she is the way she is. It's also 6.643 words about 85% of which is rather angsty. And while there arent any real graphic descriptions there are underlying themes of drug use, OD, death, grief, childhood trauma, abandonment issues, and violence. So you know be aware of that. 
> 
> Also as a heads up the next chapter will land in the series bringing Dipper and Mable into play and really taking the first step toward the real meat of the story. So that's something to look forward too. Other then that if you read this kudos and comments are always appreciated. 
> 
> And with that I scream yet another chapter into the void.

** **January 2011** **

Billie sighed as she walked through the mall, it was almost deserted, the snow that fell lazily outside enough to deter all but the most determined of shoppers and teenagers. Pulling her phone out of her pocket she looked at the screen for the millionth time, even though she knew it was useless; Stan didn’t own a cell so when he got the messages she’d left on the answering machine he would call her. Still, she was restless, she didn’t even know what she was doing here. She’s just been up a few weeks ago to throw Stan’s Christmas gift at him and spend a few days getting a crash course on Hanukkah since it turned out the Pines were Jewish. It had been nice to spend an actual holiday with someone, but after she’d left to head down to California for a job everything had gone to hell.

She'd met with the client and decided to pass on the job. While she wasn't one to pass up a job simply because the employer was obviously less than upstanding, she was one who listened to her gut. And her gut had screamed danger in big red letters with flashing lights and sirens. So she'd politely declined and the soft-spoken man who'd offered her the job had been less than pleased. After trying to throw more money at her only for her to insist she wasn't interested, he'd changed tactics to one of intimidation. Four hours later after being roughed up a bit by his 'bodyguard' they'd parted ways with the understanding that she'd never met him and would forget his face, and he'd return the favor. It wasn't the first time that sort of thing had happened, but that didn't make her ribs any less sore. After that, she'd decided that it might be better to head out the next town to find another job. And then...

"God damn it, Stan, it's the off-season what could you possibly be doing?" she growled her finger hovering over the screen as she considered calling him again, before shoving the device back into her pocket. She'd already left four messages telling him that she was suddenly in town and asking if she could crash at the Shack, if she left another he might start worrying. And he didn't need to worry, there was nothing wrong, she'd just decided to come up this way.

In fact, it was stupid she'd even bothered him, she should just call him back and tell him never mind. It wasn’t like she really needed to see him, or she wanted the strange comfort his presence gave her. No, it wasn’t that she wanted someone to tell her that it was all going to be okay. Or that she needed someone to tell her she was wanted. She really should just keep moving. Seattle was close and she had a few repeat clients there she could check in with. Yeah, she would do that.

"... said move on creep. We aren't interested," came a familiar voice sharp with anger and a hint of fear. Her head snapping up her eyes found a group of three men in their twenties crowded around someone besides a hallway over which the word 'Restrooms' was stenciled. They looked a bit rough, and even though she didn't claim to know everyone in the town she could tell they weren't locals. Glancing past them, she found the voice she had recognized; Wendy stood in front of her goth friend defiantly glaring daggers at the men.

"Oh come on. We just want to have some fun. Why don’t you show us around? You two would love to do that, right," the biggest one pressed in a friendly tone as he took a step towards the girls causing Wendy's face to waver as her friend shrink back in an effort to hide behind the redhead. He looked like he just walked out of a James Dean look-alike shoot and just radiated sleaze.

"Yeah, we're new in town. Show us around," one of the others chimed in with a predatory grin.

"We said beat it," Wendy growled, though a slight crack in her voice took some of the venom out and seemed to encourage the men who took a step towards them.

"Hey, fuck face the girl said beat it," Billie snapped as she traveled the distance between them in a dozen steps to place herself in front of the two girls much to the surprise of everyone, "So you best be movin' on," she snarled her shoulders squaring and fists clenching. While she would never have hesitated to step into such a situation no matter who it was, the fact that the assholes had picked Wendy pissed her off to no end.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them demanded a scowl on his face as he took half a step forward in an effort to intimidate her. Behind her she felt Wendy and the other girl shift as they pressed into her to hide. Letting out a soft growl she leveled her gaze on the one who'd spoken her features unreadable and eye cold as ice. 

"You feelin' froggy, boy?" she asked calmly, "Go ahead, I'll tan your hides gladly," she said with a slight laugh that just screamed unstable. The men hesitated as they looked at each other, before the leader smiled at her, raising his hands in surrender. 

"It's cool," he assured her, "Come on guys," he said as he turned and walked away. The other two hesitated before they followed him and Billie glared at them as they headed out the nearest exit. Shame, she really wanted to hit someone today. Rolling her shoulders, she turned to Wendy and her friend, Tammy she thought, flashing them a smile. 

"Y'all alright?" she asked and Wendy smiled as she let out a breath she'd been holding. 

"Yeah, thanks man," the teenager said as she stepped back, her friend nodding from behind her phone. The older woman nodded and the two stood in silence for a minute as Billie looked her over. Despite the girl's easy going tone and relaxed posture it didn't take a genius to see she was a little shaken up, making Billie wonder just how strong those assholes had come on. 

"Alright, but for my own piece ah' mind, let me get y'all home," she said, choosing to pretend she didn't see relief flash across the redhead's face. 

"My Dad's picking us up in like a half an hour, but if you need to hang around, that's cool," Wendy told her, "I didn't know you were back in town again. Soos normally texts me when you show up."

"Yeah, not stayin' though. Just passing through to Seattle. Needed a new pair of gloves," she lied smoothly, "Was just picking them up 'fore heading out. Good thing I did."

"Wait, you aren't gonna go see Stan?" Wendy asked in surprise. 

"Naw, he hasn't called me back, and I don't wanna just drop in unannounced. Lord knows what Stan's doing. Probably sitting around watching those historical dramas he pretends he don't, but you never know," Billie replied, rolling her shoulders as she looked around. Wendy's face pulled into a confused look. She like Billie, sure she was a bit rough around the edges, but she was cool. Aside from the fact that she was more than willing to help her skip out early sometimes, she had almost the same kind of salty charm Stan did. Though Stan was charming in a gruff kind of way where as Billie had a sarcastic kind of charm... she was pretty sure it was the southern accent that sold it. But there was something off about the woman today. 

"You okay?" she asked, earning another charming smile.

"Finer than a frog hair split four ways, darlin'," she assured the girl, "It's been a long drive. Sometimes the glamorous lifestyle of a PI gets tiring," she said with a soft laugh. Wendy stared at her for a moment with her eyes slitted, that was bullshit and they both knew it. But before Wendy could call her on it her phone buzzed and she pulled it out to look at. 

"Dad's here Tambry," she said and the goth girl nodded, "Thanks again Billie." 

"I'll walk with you, darlin'. I was on my way out anyway," she said smoothly as she turned to lead the way out. Wendy just shrugged, knowing it was better than protesting. Soon enough, they were outside Dan's truck idling right by the doors. 

"See yuh Billie," Wendy said as she pulled open the door, letting Tambry climb in first which she managed without ever looking up from her phone.

"Have a good evenin' girls. Stay out of trouble," the older woman replied, glancing past her to Dan, whose brows were furrowed in confusion at her presence. Flashing him a smile she lifted her hand flashing him a six fingered wave, "Hey Dan," she said as she kept walking heading out to the parking lot and her bike. 

"Billie," he rasped automatically in greeting as his daughter climbed in closing the door behind her, "What was that about?" he asked. 

"Oh some creeps were hassling us and Billie scared them off," she told him calmly. Dan's eyes narrowed slightly at her words over protective feelings surging at the idea of someone messing with his daughter. 

"Creeps?" he repeated, "Who?"

"Dad be cool, it's fine. I could have handled it, and besides Bille took care of it," the teenager sighed settling back in her seat. He considered pushing the issue but decided against it. Instead, he made a mental note to ask Billie about it when he saw her at the bar next.

"Seat belts," he boomed and Wendy rolled her eyes as she buckled up Tambry affirming she already had. 

****~*~** **

Billie slouched against the bar moodily working on her fifth beer. She’d been planning on just going out to Seattle. After all, if she kept moving she didn't have to think about anything besides keeping her bike on the road and away from cars. The snow storm, however, had different plans, in town it was a steady drifting fall but once she hit the base of the mountain it had turned into a full blown white out. And as self destructive as she could be she wasn't insane. So she'd landed at the Skull Fracture drinking away the last month.  
  
It was a quiet night no one but a few regulars; Bats and Cat (so named for his tattoos) were playing pool in the corner growling threats loudly at each other. Chin lounged at the table beside the door to check IDs if someone happened to venture in, and rowdy laughter drifted over from a few of the Scacr-O-Dacyles who sat BSing in the corner. She'd been invited to join Bats and Cat but had declined. For all the buzz about the place in town she actually liked it. While it could certainly get rowdy and fights were a dime a dozen on Saturday nights the regulars were good guys. She'd brawled with most of them at some point or another in the last year and a half but after they always wound up laughing and drinking together. Good guys if a bit rough. 

Still tonight was quiet which didn't do her much good. Billie had hoped to take her mind off her trip back to Georgia, but only managed to dwell on it. Groaning she shoved a hand through her hair as she took another drink. 

"Ugh, how the hell did I get stuck with you?" she growled at her glass her mind drifting to the urn in her saddle bag, "An' what the hell am I supose ta do with yuh now?" she muttered. The call had come in when she'd been on her way to LA; Mary's parole office had found her with a needle in her arm. Billie had wished she was shocked at the news, but she wasn't. Her mother had been an addict in the truest sense, sure she got clean here and there but she always went back. The last time Billie had talked to her was a few years ago when she'd been 'born again', for the third time by Billie’s count. Billie had given her a chance though, told Mary if she stayed clean for six months she'd come visit. That visit hadn't happened. God had lost his appeal four months later. Two months longer then when she'd regained custody of Billie when she'd been 12 and four months sooner then when she'd invited Billie to see her baptized when she was twenty. 

Still, Billie had been her listed next of kin, which meant her death had come a whole heap of problems. The woman's older children didn't even speak to her so all the debts, apartment, and arrangements had been left to her youngest. And while Billie had considered telling them to donate her to science and give away all her shit, she couldn't do that to her. As angry as she was there was still a small part of her that remembered eating ice cream at midnight and making blanket forts with her Mom when she was between benders. So for the first time in eight years Billie had gone back, and now she wished she hadn't. 

She hadn't had a service or anything instead choosing to have her mother cremated, and after looking through the sad little apartment her mother had for anything of value she'd donated what she could and had a service come clean up the rest. The landlord had been a man so sleazy her skin had crawled and it took every ounce of self restraint she had not to punch him in his face when he'd demanded next months rent and the costs of repairs over the security deposit. Credit cards, pay day loans, and a court fees had run her a pretty penny but she'd made sure they were all taken care of. 

And that had been the easy part. She'd also taken the time to call all five of her siblings to let them know; Vernon and Ivy hadn't even picked up, Emma May had hung up on her, and Jesse had laughed over the sounds of his girlfriend demanding to know who 'the bitch on the phone' was. Only her eldest brother Bo had shown any kind of feeling, he’d sighed sadly and asked if she needed help, though she knew his heart wasn't in it. He'd asked out of obligation, he was 11 years older then her and the first born so she knew he felt like he should be the one taking care of it. She'd assured him that she had handled everything, asked the obligatory 'how's the family's, answered his standard 'still doing the gypsy detective thing', and given the standard staying in touch niceties. Bo was a good guy, and honestly they were the only ones that ever spoke with each other even if it was only once every five years or so. Honestly, none of them had anything in common beside having been brought into the world by Mary. And after being separated in the system they had gone on to live their lives trying their best to find some sort of normality. 

"Hey!" came a raspy voice pulling her from her internal brooding causing her to blink as she looked over to find Dan towering over her. Blinking again she flashed a smile up at him as she straightened up swiveling the bar stool to face him. 

"Oh evenin' Dan," she drawled lazily as she glanced around him finding his perpetual shadow behind him, "Tyler you're in actual jeans...it must really be cold," she told the smaller man with a grin. 

"Billie Jean! I didn't expect to see you again so soon. You finally deciding to move here?" he asked cheerfully causing her to laugh. She really liked the flamboyant little man, when he'd first met her he'd squealed in delight asking excitedly if her middle name was Jean. When she'd confirmed that it actually was she had thought he might explode with excitement insisting on calling her Billie Jean, something she hadn't been called since high school. 

"Naw sug. Though if I ever decide to settle down this place is in the top contenders," she assured him finishing her beer, "What are you buys up to tonight?" she asked and Tyler laughed happily. 

"I should hope so. It's a great place. I convinced Dan to play some pool. Wanna join?" he asked eagerly.

  
"Naw, I'm beat. Maybe next time," she told him and he nodded before bouncing off to call the table next and eagerly cheer both Bats and Cat on. Chuckling she stretched running her fingers through her hair again as she realized she was feeling the beers more then she'd thought, before looking up at Dan who still loomed over her. Raising a brow she cocked her head looking up at him. She liked Dan as much as Tyler, though he came off as a meat head with too much testosterone and shoulder hair he was actually a lot brighter then most people gave him credit for.

Sure he absolutely fit the name Manly to a tee, and took shit from no one, but shed had more then a few intelligent conversations with him. From the value of reforesting in the logging industry to him telling her that the weird rattle she kept hearing was the Hide Behind, she'd found him rather engaging even if he did deliver his points in a booming raspy voice that could blow out your ear drums. Plus, it was pretty endearing the way he watched out for Tyler.

Apparently, they'd been best friends since elementary school, and Dan really loved the enthusiasm enthusiast. She'd even seen him play wing man for his fabulous friend which had been priceless. She’d sat by and watch Dan distract a middle aged woman who had been all but begging him to take her home so Tyler could chat up her friend, a cute red headed bear of a man...obviously he had type. But what she liked best was he seemed like he was a good Dad; hanging out at the bar was something he did when all the kids were off somewhere safe and sound, and even then he never seemed to get good and drunk just in case he needed to switch into Dad mode. Something she could appreciate, and she guessed that had something to with him towering over her at the moment. 

"I wasn't corrupting your daughter. Scout's honor," she told him raising two fingers.

"I know, she told me," he growled and she smiled wondering what it was then, "She said some guys were hassling them. Who?" he demanded and she chuckled. There it was, he wanted to know who he was hunting down. 

"I dunno I didn't recognize them. Some James Dean wanna bes in leather jackets. They'd cornered them and were trying to get them to ‘show them around town’," she told him as she signaled for another beer, "She was holding her ground but she had...Tammy?" she hesitated trying to remember the goth girl's name.

"Tambry," he supplied and she nodded.

"Tambry hidin' behind her. They were pretty easy to scare off though. Still, I insisted on hanging around until you got 'em," she finished with a shrug as she caught the glass the bar tender sent sliding down to her, "If I see them again I'll let yuh know."

"Thanks," he said after a second, "For keeping an eye on Wendy that is. I know she can handle herself but...," he trailer off a bit awkwardly and she gave him an understanding smile. 

"'Course Dan," she said as Tyler shouted that they were up. 

"Sure you don't wanna join?" he asked and she smiled shaking her head. Nodding, he turned and headed over to his friend. She watched him go out the corner of her eye. While she enjoyed Dan as a person she also enjoyed him as the world's biggest piece of eye candy too. 

Settling back against the bar she glared at her drink. It occurred to her that trying to drink away the feeling in her hadn't been the beat idea. While she wasn't drunk, she was certainly feeling it, and booze tended to make her short to begin with. But she had been out of pot for awhile and needed to do something. She knew that the mix of anger and sorrow was normal for grief, and she was self aware enough to know that she'd spent years repressing the complex emotions she had about Mary and that her death was trying to drag it all up again. But still she didn't want to deal with them now. She wanted to stuff them all deep inside and leave them there.

She didn’t want to wonder if she had forgiven her mother and spent more time with her if Mary would have cleaned up a bit. The question ‘Am I going to end up dead alone in some crappy apartment too?’ wasn’t one she wanted to ask herself. Facing the deep seated insecurity of not being a good enough daughter making Mary choose partying over her wasn’t a thing she wanted to do. Every time she’d angrily wished her mother dead, and all the nights she’d spent wondering if she was broken since even her own mother didn’t love her swirled around inside her. If only she had some kind of magic memory ray to erase it all...to delete everything to start fresh tomorrow with out all the damage she carried. Taking a drink she caught someone leaning against the bar next to her as well as movement behind her. 

"Hey, you're the one who ruined our fun earlier," came a smooth voice. Setting her drink down she turned to find the James Dean wanna be staring down at her, and realized his two friends were now flanking her. Calmly she glanced at the other two before turning back to the leader who was looking down at her with a predatory grin. 

"But I'll tell you what. Since we're such forgiving guys you can make it up to us. How about we have a few drinks and then you and us can see where the evening goes. Maybe find a way to keep us all warm," he leered and she realized he was staring down her shirt. Cocking a brow she wondered if this guy was for real, if he seriously thought she was going to take this. Looking him up and down as he leaned casually against the bar and looked like he owned the place it hit her. She was the only woman in a bar full of bikers and roughnecks, he and his friends assumed they were alphas in the situation. That because she was sitting alone in a room full of men who all oozed testosterone no one would object to them objectifying her. But man had they read the place wrong, while the regulars were certainly less then civilized by most standards none of them were animals when it came to women. Letting out a low chuckle she sat up cracking her neck as she stretched. Glancing at the two that flanked her she returned her gaze to James Dean and smirked.

"Yuh actually think that's gonna work on me?" she asked taking a drink, "Listen son, even if I wasn't already in a piss poor mood I wouldn't keep you or yur flunkies warm if we was six feet deep. Anyone who tries to scare girls into goin' with 'em ain't worth the shit on the bottom ah my shoe," she told them cause the men to shift angrily around her but she just smirked as she stood rolling her shoulders. Displeased with her dismissal of him the scumbag pressed forward almost touching her as the other ones crowded around her. He was using his height to force her to look up at him but she just smiled catching movement behind him, glancing past him she saw Chin has stood from his stool beside the door very aware of the situation. Raising her hand slightly she signaled she had this and he stilled not sitting down but trusting her for the moment. 

"You got a smart mouth bitch. Maybe we should teach you how to use it," he threatened and she let out a bark of laughter in his face which only served to piss him off more. Good, she needed to blow off some steam. 

"Oh bless yur heart, huh really don't realize how fucked you are do you?" she asked her tone dripping with southern condescending, "Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to intimidate women into yur bed y'all'd've realized you picked the wrong bar to do that in. In fact, y'all picked the wrong town, an' y'all certainty picked the wrong girl," she chuckled. 

"Oh really?" he asked glancing sarcastically around, "Because there's three of us and you don't seem to have any friends. So why don't you think this through. We can have some fun and make nice," he offered and she laughed again causing his face to contort in frustration. It was clear he was use to women submitting to them...scumbag.

"Oh honey I got plenty a friends here. But no, I meant at the mall," she informed him raising her fingers to her lips and letting out a loud whistle causing the whole bar to fall silent. The dawning realization that they'd fucked up that was creeping into his face was priceless as she looked over her shoulder to Dan and Tyler who stood beside the pool table staring at her. The look on his face told her that he was already piecing together what was going on and she grinned. 

"Hey Dan these are the assholes that were hassling Wendy," she called and the snap of the pool cue as his fist clenched around it sounded like a gun shot in the silence. All at once every pair of eyes turned to the men who surrounded her the hate tangible, before they all looked over to Dan. Well, actually they all turned to the little man beside Dan. Raising a brow Billie looked at Tyler who’s eyes narrowed in anger as he stared at the men around her.

“Get ‘em,” he said softly rendering his verdict to everyone. With those words what was going to happen became clear. Turning back to the scumbag towering over her she felt the acid grin splitting her face. 

"Thanks hun. I've been lookin' ta hit something all day," she told him before snapping her hand up to the side of his head and slamming it viciously into the bar. And with that all hell broke loose. 

Twenty minutes later Billie panted slightly as she watched the three assholes get rolled out the door. Blood dripped from a split on her forehead and she could feel her left eye swelling already. In the split second after she'd slammed James' head into the bar his two friends had jumped her landing solid hits to her face and chest and the world had gone red. After that it was a blur of fury and pain as she and Dan had beat the living hell out of them. She had taken out every ounce of rage she'd built up over the last month on the poor bastards until finally Dan had dragged her off them, probably so she wouldn't beat them to death. Looking down at his arm that was wrapped around her waist she pushed gently on it. 

"Uhh Dan you can put me down now," she told him and he looked down at her skeptically, "I'm not rabid I won't attack," she assured him. Grunting he set her down on her feet and he frowned as she stretched. 

"Uhhhh you okay?" he asked raising a brow at her and she sighed nodding. It was obvious that he wasn't just talking about physically. While Billie was always up for a fight she was never out of control. But tonight she had gone insane, and now she was just exhausted. All of her anger had been channeled into her hits leaving her feeling nothing but a strange kind of hollow sadness. Still she put on a charming smile and shrugged.

"Yeah, rough week," she told his dismissively. He opened his mouth to say something but her phone began blasting an air raid siren from under a bar stool. Thanking God for the excuse to avoid any further explanation she dove for it flipping it open. 

"'Ello," she chirped wiping at the blood seeping down into her eye. 

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" Stan thundered causing her to pull the phone away from her ear, "I'VE CALLED YOU FIVE TIMES. YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH! YOU SAY YOU'RE IN TOWN BUT NEVER SHOW UP?!" he raged, "IT’S A GOD DAMN BLIZZARD OUTSIDE!"

"You never called me back to say I could crash with you," she snapped and the silence on the other end was slightly threatening. 

"I told you last time to just come in," he told her, "Now get your ass over here before you get snowed in," he barked before he hung up the phone. Looking down at the cell phone she snapped it shut and shook her head. Well, guess it was time to start walking cause she sure as hell wasn’t in any shape to drive.

****~*~** **

****

Stan sat glaring at some late night documentary on the manufacturing of mud flaps played on the screen. It was almost midnight and Billie still hadn’t showed up, he’d called her 45 minutes ago. It wasn’t that he was worried about her or anything he was just cranky that the woman was keeping him up. He’d spent the last two days down in the basement with that damn portal and unsurprisingly gotten no where. So when he’d come up to find the answering machine blinking he’d been glad for the distraction, if a bit surprised to hear she was back so soon. But after listening to the messages he had gotten a bit concerned, the last few times she’d come for a visit she hadn’t asked if she could stay, she’d just told him she would be there. And he’d told her that she was always welcome. But suddenly she was acting like he might turn her away. Had he done something last visit to make her feel like she was no longer welcome? He didn’t think so.

But then when he tried to call her she hadn't picked up, which was weird, the woman was attached to that damned cell phone like if she missed a call she might die. Seriously, it was like the thing shocked her every time it rang. When she’d finally picked up he was pretty sure that he’d heard the sounds of the Skull Fracture in the background. And the bar was only about ten minutes away so what was taking her so long? Looking outside he could see the snow was falling more heavily then it had been an hour ago. The plows wouldn’t be out until the morning either which only served to make him even more agitated.

She only ever rode that bike of hers and if she had skidded off the road she had no shelter. She could have been hurt or worse. He trusted her to know her limits, and he knew that she never really got hammered. She had a few beers at most and had walked back the few times she had felt she wasn’t able to be safe, but the snow was a different story. Even seasoned drivers could get in trouble in it.

“Damn it Stanley you should have gone and got her,” he growled to himself, “You idiot. What were you thinking? You know she doesn’t have a car,” he berated his anger manifesting in self loathing, “Stupid worthless old man.”

As he stood to go get dressed so he could go out looking for her a knock came on the front door sending him charging towards it like a bat out of hell. Relief washed over him as he wrenched the door open ready to demand to know what the hell was wrong with her, but the sight before him left him speechless.

Billie stood on the porch snow clinging to the messy black braid of her hair and the shoulders of her fur lined parka. Her jeans were soaked through to the knees where she’d obviously trudged through the snow. Still sticky blood coated one side of her face from a large gash on her forehead, her left eye was half swollen shut and blackening quickly, and her bottom lip split and seeping blood. Her skin was even paler then normal from cold or blood loss and her jaw was bruised and angry looking. Staring at her he felt his heart stop in his chest, he should have gone and got her. She’d obviously crashed on her way over and had to walk here, he needed to get her to the hospital. There was no telling how badly she was hurt, she could be bleeding internally, or have broken bones and only be standing because of shock. She could be dying and it was all hi fault. Stupid worthless old man, he should have gone and gotten her.

“Holy Moses, are you okay? What happened?” he finally managed to bark as he reached a hand towards her pulling her into the house. She was freezing, he could see her shivering and her lips were tinted blue. Good god he need to get the keys to take her to the hospital. “Stay there I’ll get my keys. We have to…,” he began but she cut him off.

“No,” she said her voice thick with pain as she caught his hand with hers. Her skin was like ice, and he noticed her knuckles were bruised and bloody, “No,” she repeated and he stopped looking down at her. Something was wrong, the Billie he’d come to know always had a cocky manner, head held up defiant to the world, sharp eyed and ready to take on the world. But now…she didn’t look like the hell cat that was his daughter. Instead she looked…like a lost little girl. Her shoulders slumped, one arm hugging herself, and big green eyes watery with unshed tears. He looked like he’d felt so many times in his life; lost, alone, and broken. Now, utterly confused he stood looking at her and wondering what the hell he was suppose to do. For a second she stood motionless before shaking her head and moving like she was going to leave. Catching her hand he stopped her, he couldn’t let her go back out there in her current state.

“Billie…what happened?’ he asked again unable to think of anything else to say, “Hey. It’s okay. I’ve been around the world. Whatever it is I’ll understand,” he said echoing the words he’d said so many years ago. He didn’t know what was wrong but this time he wasn’t going to fuck it up again. He refused to loose his daughter like he’d lost his brother, “Come on kid, you’re freaking me out.”

“I…I…Mary died and I had to go back to Georgia. And none of the others seemed to care. And I…I tried to just forget, but it didn’t work. An’ I came here because…I dunno. And I went to the bar but then I beat up James Dean and….and,” she spewed as tears began pouring from her eyes before she lunged forward and hugged him so tightly it almost hurt as she buried her face in his chest. Blinking Stan stood for a second staring down at her as she sobbed quietly into his chest, “I don’t wanna die alone Stanford,” she whimpered into his chest and something in him broke a little as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I know kid, but it’ll all be okay I promise,” he told her his own voice a bit choked. What else could he say? He’d never been good with word or feeling so he just decided to let her cry it out. After all he couldn’t do anything else for her besides be a caring ‘uncle’.

For a while they just stood there; Billie crying softly into his chest as she let out all the grief she’d been holding in and Stan letting her. Finally, she took a step back scrubbing at her eyes and staring at his feet embarrassment washing over her. She must look like an idiot, showing up on his door step crying like a little kid. Sniffing she rolled her shoulders the beating from earlier staring to set in as her body ached along with her heart. Her eyes were puffy and itchy from all the crying and her throat sore from the walk in the snow. She realized she was exhausted in every possible way and looked up at him to find him staring at her hesitantly.

“Feel better?” he asked finally and she gave a jerky nod.

“Yeah…thanks Stan,” she said shoving her hands in her pockets, “So…I’m gonna invoke the girdle rule here.”

“The what?” he asked his face contorting in confusion.

“The fact that you wear a girdle. You know it’s a thing. I know it’s a thing. But we don’t talk about it and pretend it never happened,” she told him and he couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter.

“Alright, alright I get it,” he told her and she gave a weak smile, “Now not to sound too bossy or anything but you should go get cleaned up and take some aspirin. Probably wanna ice that eye too. Cause it looks like James Dean beat you up not the other way around,” he told her and she let out her own laugh. Nodding he turned to head into the kitchen for the first aid kit and a glass of water for her. She was going to need it.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said as she dragged herself towards the stairs only to pause on the first step, “Really, thanks Stan,” she said not looking at him.

“Sure thing kid. That’s what family is for,” he said not turning from his path to the kitchen. Smiling she nodded as she headed up stairs. 


	5. Meet the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to the Shack brings Billie face to face with the Twins and it's all she can do not to run screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty peeps we're getting into it now. The chapters from here on out wont be so time skippy as we settle into the meat of the story. This is set in late July some time after The Love God but before the Northwest Mansion Mystery. And with that I will scream yet another chapter into the endless sea that is the internet. Enjoy.

Over the next year and a half Billie became a fairly regular fixture at the Shack. It was almost maddening the way she called to check in with Stan every few days, her mother's death seeming to spur her on. Stan swore she was suddenly channeling Shermie in her determination to keep in touch, though, when he'd brought up the idea of introducing her to him and the rest of the family, she still protested. As far as he could figure she worried that she was too rough for them to accept, a ridiculous notion in his opinion. For starters she was a successful private investigator who was completely self made, and while he would bet hard cash that some of the people she worked for weren’t above bar that didn’t lessen her success. She was also smart as a whip, and clever as hell, everyone in town seemed to like her and she was undoubtedly kind hearted. Sure, he might be a bit bias in his opinion of her but she was still objectively a great person to have around who would give you the shirt off her back if she thought you needed it.

Then again he could understand the way she felt. It was easy to see the same kind of quiet self loathing in her that he had. That little voice that whispered that you would never be good enough for anyone and weren’t worth knowing. He saw it flash in her eyes every time he praised her or brought up the rest of the family who were admittedly far more ‘normal’. And while he hated that she thought that of herself and wanted to shake her until she realized she was being stupid he didn't press the issue. He realized that she all but panicked whenever he even mentioned Shermie and the rest and had noticed that when the twins were brought up at all she looked like she wanted to run for the hills. In fact, he had noticed that when she was helping out around the Shack that anytime she had to directly interact with children beyond a single question she looked like she wanted to run for the hills. So he dropped it figuring she’d come around eventually, and avoided mentioning them at all.

And if he was honest with himself, he kind of liked having her all to himself. Granted, he had to keep up the act that he was her uncle, but the affection that she gave him was something he hadnt realized he needed. She didn’t expect anything from him; he didn’t have to pretend to be a genius or look at him like he’d thrown his whole life away like Shermie did. She liked him for him and seemed to genuinely enjoy his company. The admiration she expressed at his ever expanding collection of oddities was voiced almost as often as Soos’, and she constantly seemed to eavesdrop on his tours caught up in his showmanship. It was nice to feel like some one really cared about him that was family. And somewhere deep down inside he was afraid if she met the rest of the family she would start seeing him as the screw up they did. 

So they kept on, Billie showing up every few months for a visit. Their relationship wasn't an openly affectionate one, instead both acting more like they tolerated each other. Much of the time was spent bickering over little things or making stupid bets over anything and everything they could. Yet, the affection they had was there, Billie cooking for them even as she loudly complained that his kitchen wasn’t suited for making a bowl of cereal or Stan calling her a moron for riding that damned bike around with busted tail light because she’d lead the cops right to him only to claim he had no idea how it got fixed by the next morning. It was a bit unconventional, but it seemed to work well for both of them. Not to mention the entertainment it added to Soos and Wendy’s life when they were constantly trying to one up the other. 

And so time rolled on until one Tuesday in July Billie trudged up the road her bag slung across her back and a large box in her arms. Glancing around seeing the parking lot empty aside from Soos' truck and Stan's car she figured that the sticky heat that hung in the air had chased everyone into whatever cooler shelter they could find. Hopping up the steps she easily caught the handle and pushed the door open with her hip.

"Hey Stan I brought you a gold mine. I managed to get my hands on a two headed fish and a six legged chicken. I figure you can stick them together and...," she yelled before skidding to a halt. In front of her a little girl with thick brown hair and a neon green sweater with a yellow heart stood braces gleaming as she grinned up at her,

"Hi! Do you have a two tailed rat too?” the child asked eagerly.  
"Uhhhhh... no?" Billie said, her eyes darting around the room for the old man before returning to the preteen who was bouncing eagerly on her heels, "Why? Do you need one?" she asked, unable to come up with anything else to say.

"No, I just thought it would be neat," the girl told her cheerfully.

"Oh, okay, cool," Billie said, staring at her like she had two heads, "STAN THERE'S A STRAY CHILD IN THE LIVING ROOM!" she yelled causing the girl to laugh and shake her head. 

"I'm not a stay child, I'm Mabel. Stan's my great uncle," she told the older woman causing Billie's eyes to widen significantly, "Who are you?"

"Uhhhhh Billie," she replied after a second taking a step back. This wasn't ideal, while she had not recognized her by sight, she was well aware of Mabel and her brother Mason. They were two of the five family members she'd been avoiding meeting. Feeling a light sweat break out on her body, she resisted the urge to bolt back out the door.

"Oh hey dude," Soos said as he walked in from the gift shop raising a hand and letting out a laugh. Beside him was a boy who looked eerily similar to the girl beaming up at her who's face pulled into a suspicious look. Mason, he had his great uncle's nose, and his eyes; sharp and shrewd.

"Hey Soos," she said automatically grateful for the presence of another adult at least, "Stan around?"

"Yeah, he's in the store room. Didn't know you were coming," he told her and she rolled her shoulders in an uncomfortable shrug.

"Yeah, well, my bike needs a total overhaul so I dropped it off at the garage this morning," she explained.

"Cool you can totally help me and Dipper find what whatever is stealing the extra snacks out of the store room while you're here," the big man laughed.

"Wait, who are you?" Mason demanded, staring at her.

"Oh dude, you don't know her?" Soos asked, looking down at him, "She's Billie. Her Dad is a friend of Stan's and she stays here when she's between jobs, man. She's a private investigator an’ like super cool," he chuckled and Billie couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips. Soos was such a sweetheart she couldn't help but like him.

"Whoa, you're a real PI?" Mason said, staring up at her, his suspicion disappearing to be replaced by quiet excitement.

"Like ducktective!?" Mable chimed in and Billie couldn't help but pull a face.

"The duck is a hack," she said automatically, the statement one she had said a million times to Stan, "He doesn't 90% of his investigation is based on conjecture and assumed facts. Plus, he's closer to the ground so he can find stuff way too easily." 

"That's what I said," Dipper said eagerly, "So you...,"

"What the heck is all the commotion out here? I can hear... Billie!" Stan interrupted himself as he walked his eyes widening as he spotted her, "What are you doing here?!"

"My bike needs an overhaul so I figured I'd drop in since Bats said he's gonna have to rip it apart," she told him raising her brows, "You didn't say you had company though, so I'll just head over to the Twin," she said showing the box into his arms and turning, "Nice meeting you guys"

"Wait," Stan said, glancing down at the kids, before looking back at his daughter who looked like she was ready to run screaming from the house, "I mean you could stay here. We found an extra room," he told her quickly causing her to cock a brow, her face falling into a skeptical look.

"You _found_ a room?" she asked, "Stan... how on earth did you have a room you didn't know about? _You built the house_ ," she reminded him and he hesitated before scoffing.

"I'm old. Old people forget things," he said matter a factly causing her to roll her eyes.

"You forgot a whole room?" she demanded, crossing her arms and resting all her weight on one hip.

"Yeah, and the wax museum," Maple provided cheerfully causing Billie's mouth to fall open slightly.

" _You have a wax museum_?" she demanded.

"Had, we had to melt them all because they were alive cause of a curse and decapitated Wax Stan," Mabel chirped causing the older woman's eye brows to shoot up in disbelief, "Well, Larry King's head is still running around. We can't get him out of the vents."

"Well... glad to see the weirdness has cranked up to a 12. Guess the gnomes were too mundane," she muttered and Dipper stared at her.

"Wait, you know about the gnomes?!" he demanded and she shrugged uncomfortably as both the kids’ stared up at her. Shifting nervously she rolled her shoulders again pulled at he hem of her shirt.

"Don't everyone? I mean the dam…darn things ‘re everywhere, I always 'ave ta chase them out of my sattle bags," she replied casually before catching Stan staring at her like she was spilling state secrets, "What? Are we pretendin' this place isn't totally insane? Oh, my bad. Gnomes aren't real and there sure as he…heck ain't little campfires that run 'round or a weird thing that stalks you but you can't never catch cause it's always behind you," she said rolling her eyes.

"Whoa, you _have_ to stay," Dipper said eagerly, "No one believes me about that stuff."

"Yeah! And you can help me even out the guy vibe around here," Mabel said happily and Billie hesitated glancing at Stan who shrugged. Widening her eyes she cocked her head at him in an effort for some help, while the kids seemed nice the thought of getting to know them freaked her out. She was just getting okay with the idea of Stan in her life, and honestly children in general freaked her out. Kids were one of those things she avoided like the plague because she didn't want to be the reason that one of them turned out... like her.

"Your call, kid," Stan rumbled unhelpfully, causing Billie to let out a sigh. Looking down at the kids who stared up at her eagerly and then back at Stan who's stoic scowl slipped for a moment his eyes widening and pleading slightly she found her excuses running dry. She had a feeling that the Twin was full up, she had passed it on the way in and saw the parking lot full. Undoubtedly exhausted travelers had stopped in an effort to escape the heat and stuffy cars. And while she was sure she could head to the next town over she didn’t want to, her bike was in the shop down town and she didn’t want to have to ride the damned bus back and forth. 

"Okay, I guess a few days wouldn't hurt," she sighed causing Mabel to let out a delighted squeal and longing forward to wrap her arms around her in a delighted hug causing Billie to grow up her hands in surprised alarm. Hugging wasn’t something she was a big fan of in general, it was one of those things that evoked…feelings. Looking over at Stan she hunched her shoulders and shook her head; she didn’t want to just shove the kid away but at the same time she didn’t know what else to do.

"Great! What are your feelings on glitter?" the girl demanded pulling away much to Billie’s relief though the sudden question threw her.

"It was created by Satan and should be banned from every place of existence," Billie replied flatly taking a hesitant step back in case the girl lunged at her again.

"Hmmmm, make up?" Mabel said disapprovingly.

"Expensive an' pointless."

"Scrapbooking?"

"Evidence trail so no."

"Boy bands?"

"Ummmm, nonthreatenin'?"

"Pigs?"

"Adorable, but also delicious."

"Sweaters? Specifically knitted ones?"

"Cozy an' underrrated."

"Mmmmmm, we have some work to do, but you have potential," Mabel declared squinting up at her as she rubbed her chin. Billie gave a tense smile and let out an uncomfortable laugh. Potential for what, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

"Mabel stop doing...," Stan barked gesturing at her, "....that. You okay kid?" he asked raising a brow at Dipper who stood staring opened mouth at Billie, "Yur sweatier then normal."

"Yeah," Dipper said his voice cracking, "Soos, Mabel I need to talk to you about...stuff," he stammered as he backed towards the door, "So you know...we should go...talk....about stuff...outside," he added causing Billie to raise a brow as they watched him awkwardly back out the door slamming into the door frame as he went. Soos chuckled as he followed him, Mabel running after him as she declared him a dork. Watching them go Billie shook her head before glancing at Stan. 

"What in the Sam Hill, Stanford?" she demanded her head whipping over to glare at him, “Yuh couldn't'ave mentioned yuh had them here? I talked to yuh two days ago an’ mentioned I’d be comin’ through.”

"It's been a weird summer," he replied with a shrug, "Come on it won't be so bad. Besides this way you can get a feel for 'em before you introduce 'urself to the rest of 'em. If you can survive Mabel and get Dipper you can handle the rest of them no problem. Now what is this crap?" he asked shaking the box she'd handed him. 

"A two 'eaded fish and six legged chicken. Real ones, not like the half asses crap yuh usually put out," she told him a hint of annoyance lingering in her words.

"Yeah well we'll see about that," he scoffed

****~*~** **

  
"What is your deal?" Mabel asked as she watched her twin pace back and forth babbling excitedly as he paged through the journal,

"Dude, you're freakin' out," Soos told him and the boy stopped his eyes wide with excitement as he stared at them like they'd missed something.

"Didn't you see her hand" he asked his voice high with excitement.

"What?" Mabel asked her face twisting in confusion.

"Her hand. Her left hand has six fingers," he insisted only to receive raised brows from his sister and a head cock from Soos causing him to let out an exasperated sigh, "She had six fingers guys!"

"Bro you're loosing me here," Mabel told him shaking her head.

"Yeah, I mean it's kind of weird but...," Soos told him and he rolled his eyes as he snapped the journal closed holding the battered leather cover up to them. 

"Her left hand has six fingers," he repeated slowly, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as they caught up to him. 

"No way," Mabel said her voice airy with awe. 

"Dude," Soos droned staring at the golden emblem on the front, "Dude!"

"I know!" Dipper said his voice almost shouting as he flipped the book around to start at it, "I mean I assumed the author was a guy but...that can't be just a coincidence. I mean she knows about the gnomes and she said something about the Hide Behind I think," he said as he flipped through the journal. "All summer we've been looking for the author in town but what if they hid the book because they were leaving town?" he mused his words all but running together. 

"But Dipper that book is like a hundred years old, and she's like twenty," Mabel said pumping the breaks as usual. Pausing Dipper's brows scrunched together in thought. That was true, and it said that the author had been studying the place for six year after traveling around. And while she could have started the journal when she was a kid it seemed like the author wrote like an adult. 

"Wait, what if she's like the author's daughter," Soos said causing them to look at him, "I mean she just showed up a few years ago. Like one day she was just there, but she comes to town like all the time. And she's always going out in the forest. Maybe she's looking for him too dude," he suggested and Dipper once again wondered at Soos strange brand of insight. 

"So what? You gonna ask her?" Mabel demanded and Dipper's mouth twisted in contemplation. 

"Mmmmm, maybe we should see if we can find anything out first. You're good at getting people to tell you things." 

"It’s one of my talents," Mabel said proudly.

"Right, so you find out what you can about her. She has to have something to do with the journals,” he said sternly, “We’re on the edge of finding out something big I just know it.”


	6. A Name for A Goat and Where to Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie figured it should be easy to cook a nice meal but soon finds herself facing down Match Maker Mabel and Dipper's curiosity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait (if anyone even notices lol) but real life got n=me in a choke hold for a minute.

****~*~** **

Billie hummed softly to herself as she stood in front of the old stove carefully turning a piece of chicken as it cooked. The snap and sizzle of the oil created a comforting sort of white noise as she worked. She hadn’t planned on cooking tonight she’d been planning on going over to the Skull Fracture, but after three days she’d figured out that Stan had been taking the twins to Greasy’s almost every night or feeding them ‘Stan-cakes’ she had commandeered the car keys and headed off to the store. One trip later and she was safely hidden away in the kitchen, away from kids. 

Not that she minded, she truly loved cooking, it was a rare pleasure she didn't get to do as often as she liked. Not having a permanent address meant no kitchen so no cooking aside from hotplates every now and then. So, the fact that Stan gave her access to a real kitchen with no protest was a gift. Making sure the chicken was settled for the moment, she turned her attention to the greens in the pot. She figured fried chicken, greens and beans, and mac and cheese was as good a meal as any, after all kids liked them right? 

"My root beer float brings all the guys to the pool, and they're like...," she sang softly before hearing someone beside her. 

"Hi-yah! Watcha cooking?" came Mabel's lilting voice causing her to look down to find the child had somehow appeared right beside her to beam enthusiastically up at her. Letting out a surprised sound at the Girl's sudden appearance, she stared down at her for a second before glancing at the stove.

"Fried chicken, greens, an' mac," she replied swallowing, "Why? Are you allergic to something? Or Vegan?" she asked suddenly realizing she hadn't asked Stan what the kids would or could eat. Mabel stared up at her for a second before laughing. 

"Oh no, it just smells good," she replied as she nimbly hopped up on to the counter and crossed her legs, "So Billie tell me about you. Your hopes, your dreams. You're favorite color," she demanded her fingers steepled beneath her chin like a day time talk show host.

"Uhhhh...I hope I don’t burn the chicken, I dream in techicolor, an’ Pantone 3265 C,” she replied raising an eyebrow as she turned one of the pieces of chicken again as the girl hummed beside her.

“Fascinating, so your sound like Gideon are you related?” she asked and Billie’s nose wrinkled as she stuck out her tongue and shook her head at the thought.

“That’s little two bit fake? Lord no,” the woman said as she turned to her attention to the greens, “Just cause we both got a drawl don’t mean we come from the same place. They talk like they’re from Texas or Tennessee. I’m from Georgia darlin’,” she added as she worked her discomfort at the child’s presence pushed away by the need to keep everything from burning. Beside her Mabel cocked her head and gave a beaming smile braces flashing in the light. Billie couldn’t help but return one, the girl seemed to radiate joy.

“So is that where Stan met your Dad? Georgia?”she asked and Billie felt her eyes widen a bit but other then that kept her cool. Her mind raced as she considered what to say; lies were more believable if they were laced with truth. Also she wanted something that Stan could roll with if he was asked before she could talk to him. Weighing the options quickly she shook her head.

“Naw, they grew up together in Jersey,” she said smoothly hoping it would be enough to quince the girl’s curiosity but her next question told her that Billie wouldn’t be getting off that easily.

“Oh, where’s he now? Does he live here in Gravity Falls?” the brunette chirped and Billie shook her head.

“Uhhh, no. He…ummmm he passed on,” she said quickly hoping that the idea of death would put the girl off. She expected that her parents would have taught the kids to be shy of such a sensitive subject, what she didn’t expect was the child to launch herself off the counter and catch her in a tight hug.

“I’m ssssooo sorry Billie,” Mabel said as she squeezed the large woman. Billie stood frozen; tongs still held in her hand that had instinctively wrapped around the girl to keep her from swinging into the pots on the stove, and mouth slightly agape. She sounded so _sincere_ in her apology. Billie had spent most of her childhood listening to people she’d just met offer apologies; they were sorry that she was in the system, that her latest placement hadn’t worked out, that she couldn’t afford a meal, and the one thing that every single on had had in common was they’d been hollow. Niceties given with no real feeling behind them; but the girl wrapped around her neck radiated genuine sorrow at her words and her small arms hugged tightly like she was trying to absorb any pain that lingered from them. It was jarring, to say the least.This tiny child she had just met was giving her one of the few sincere hugs she had ever received in her life, and she didn’t know how to respond. 

“Oh, it’s’alright,” Billie said as she patted Mabel’s back awkwardly, “Really, I’m fine,” she added a hint of alarm causing her voice to crack slightly. Mabel gave one last squeeze before letting go Billie quickly turning to let the girl down away from the stove. Looking down at her Billie really thought the girl might cry, and she shifted nervously.   
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you think about that,” Mable told her and Billie shook her head holding her hands up.

“Really Mabel it’s fine. I’m okay with it. It happened a long time ago,” she assured her as she looked around for something, _anything_ to distract the girl from her distress. Her emerald gaze fell on the soft pink piglet that sat snuffling up at them. She’d asked Stan about the pig earlier only to be told it was Mabel’s pet, the old man had complained loudly about the creature which had made her laugh. He seemed to constantly be plagued with livestock to complain about. Over the last few years she had taken a liking to the stray goat that hung around the shack, and Stan had grumbled constantly about the creature but yet hadn’t run the thing off yet. In his complaints about the pig, Waddles, Stan had mentioned that Mable had named the goat as well. 

“Hey, I heard you named the goat,” she said quickly as she turned back to the stove.

“Oh you mean Gompers?” Mabel said perking up, “Yeah, he and Waddles are married now. They’re Gravity Falls’ newest power couple and one of my greatest successes,” she said proudly perking up at once much to Billie’s relief.

“Oh really?” she said absently with a smile on her face, “Yuh got many successes like ‘em?”

“Yup I’m Gravity Falls premier match maker,” Mabel said proudly as she puffed out her chest, “I set up Soos and Robbie and Stan,” she listed ticking them off on her fingers causing an amused smile pulling at Billie’s lips.

“Yuh set up Stan?” she asked cocking a brow, “And how’d that go?”

“Yup, with Lazy Susan,” Mabel replied proudly, “It didn’t work out though. Weird she seemed just his type,” she added her face scrunching in concentration. Billie snorted from the stove, after her time spent getting to know Stanford she had come to believe that dating wasn’t really his thing; sure he seemed a shameless flirt but he never seemed to pursue it.

“Fancy that,” Billie mused as she began pulling the chicken out and plating it.

“Do _you_ have a boyfriend?’ the girl asked suddenly her voice high with excitement as though it was the most delightfully scandalous thing she’d ever asked. Billie froze again her jaw falling open as she looked down to find the girl grinning like a cat in a cream factory.

“No…I…no,” she sputtered quickly shaking her head, “I…I don’t have time for that.”

“Oooo, sounds like someone needs Match Maker Mable to help them out,” the girl cooed with a broad grin and Billie shook her head.

“No, really it’s fine. I move around too much. I really don’t have time for a boyfriend,” she told her but the girl just grinned wider somehow egged on by her statement.

“There’s always time for love,” Mabel informed her, “But who would be right? Hmmm,” the girl mused tapping her chin with a finger, “Hmmm, maybe Tad.”

“ _Tad?_ Heavens no. That man is so normal it’s creepy,” Billie said before she could stop herself and immediately regretted it. Mabel perked up her shoulders pulling back as a coy smile pulled her lips.

“Oh so you already have someone in mind,” she chuckled and Billie turned back to the stove rolling her eyes.

“No darlin’ Tad’s just not…no,” she told her as she worked wondering if this was part of the ‘boy crazy’ phase most girls went through. She herself hadn’t been all that boy crazy as a kid, she’d moved around too much to really be able to developed too many crushes. The one crush she had had that endured for more than a day was her 8th grade math teacher Mr. Andrews, which had lasted a solid week before being shattered when he gave her detention.

“Oooooo, you _like_ somebody _,”_ Mabel said her voice dripping with delight, “Who is it? Is it someone here? Someone I know?” she asked in rapid fire.

“ _No_ ,” Billie said her voice cracking in indignation causing Mabel to vibrate happily.

“ _You do like someone here_ ,” the girl accused, “Oh my god you _have_ to tell me. No! Wait lemme guess. Who around here is your age? Toby…no one one likes Toby let alone _like_ likes him. Hmmmm, America Guy? No too skinny. Tyler? Naw to upbeat. One of the bikers…you said you have a motorcycle. Maybe? Mr. Poolcheck? Naw, he’s a weirdo. You seem like you would want a big strong guy. Someone who could… ** **OH MY GOD!!!**** ” she squealed suddenly looking up at her, “It’s Manly Dan isn’t it? You two would be perfect together!” she gushed, and Billie paused long enough to wonder how asking about her naming the goat had gone so far off the rails. And how the hell she was suppose to get out of this conversation. It seemed if she protested the girl would take it as proof of an affection that wasn’t there, but she couldn’t agree because that would just be a can of worms too. Busying herself with her chicken she could feel the preteen’s eye boring into her.

“What is all the yaking?” Stan demanded from the doorway and Billie was so relieved she could kiss the old man. Mabel though seemed unfazed by his sudden appearance spinning to look up at him excitedly.

“Grunkle Stan! Don’t you think Manly Dan would be perfect as Billie’s boyfriend?” she asked excitedly and Stan’s jaw fell open as he looked up at Billie who shrugged shaking her head.

“What?” he rasped and Mabel stared at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Manly Dan, you know Wendy’s Dad,” she told him and he stared at her, “Wouldnt they make the cutest couple? Even better than Gompers and Waddles.”

“I know who you’re talking about I just don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told the child looking up at Billie who just shook her head her eyes wide and pleading.

“I just asked what she had named the goat,” she told him at an utter loss. She had though for a split second that Stan’s appearance would pull the whole conservation to a grinding halt but it seemed she was wrong. For a second Stan just stared at them before shaking his head.

“Mabel, go find yur brother and tell him to get ready for dinner,” he said finally jerking a thumb over his shoulder. 

"Sure thing Grunkle Stan," she said cheerfully as she skipped off happily Billie letting out a heavy sigh of relief as the girl grinned and bobbed her head. Watching her go Billie let out a breath she hadnt realized she’d been holding.

“Heavens ta Betsy, that girl is…,” she trailed off looking for the right words

“Yeah,” Stan replied in understanding a sly grin creeping across his face as he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, “So you and Dan, huh? No wonder you spend so much time down at the var,” he teased and she rolled her eyes.

“Yur’ a grown man Stanford, you really gonna get on the train with a 12 year old?” she asked as she worked on finishing up preparing dinner and he laughed.

“I’m not hearing a no and your look a little red around the ears kid,” he barked and she could swear she pulled a muscle as she rolled her eyes again. Deciding she would shut this down once and for all she looked at him and put on a killer smile.

“Mmmmm, if me and Dan were doin’ anything I assure you you an’ everyone would know by the way we were walking. I would gladly let that man bend me over an’,” she said and Stan’s hands flew up.

“NO!!” he barked, “Stop I don’t wanna know,” he told her shaking his head and she smirked with a laugh.

****~*~** **

He couldn’t stop staring at her hand, the six fingers were mesmerizing. They were more slender then the golden ones on the front of the Journal but still. They had to be the answer, or at least part of the answer. There was no way that it was just a coincidence, how many people had a left hand with six fingers? Had the Author had six fingers? Was it genetic? If so had her father had the extra one or was it someone else? He wanted to ask so badly but…

Mabel had told him when she came to get him that she’d found out that Billie’s Dad and Stan had grown up together. But did that mean that Stan had known the Author? If so was he hiding something else? He’d shown Stan the Journal, so that meant that Stan had seen the hand on the front. Was that why he’d taken it? Because it was from someone he knew? But even if he didn’t know anyone before Billie he would have realized she had six fingers just like the hand on the cover. Or was did he not notice it? No, Stan was a lot of things but stupid wasn’t one of them. He’d know about the weird things in the town but lied about it. He had promised no more secrets though. So maybe he could just ask Stan.

God, he had so many questions. But who should he ask? And would they even tell him the truth? Billie seemed nice enough but she also seemed….shady. He could be imagining things, but she seemed to be avoiding them. And she had taken off a few hours after she’d shown up and hadnt come back until like two in the morning. Could he trust her? Would she trust him? The Journal said Trust No One. If he showed her the Journal she might take it. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know if he could trust them.

He watched as she stood and tuned back in to what was going on around him. She excused herself and he watched her leave his mind racing only to have Stan cuff the back of his head lightly sending his hat down over his eyes

“Ow, what was that for?’ he demanded shoving his hat up as he turned to look at his Grunkle who scowled slightly.

“It’s rude to stare kid,” he rasped, “I know your parents taught you better then that. And say something for God’s sake. Billie asked you if you wanted another soda twice and your just sitting there gawking at her. Knock it off.” Dipper felt his cheeks redden a bit as his hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

“Oh….uuuhhh sorry. I was just…,” he stammered and Stan sighed as he took another bite of his chicken.

“You were staring at her hand like a weirdo, “ the older man told him, “She’s got an extra finger. Sure, it’s different but I’m sure she doesn't appreciate you acting like she’s some kind of weird alien. So knock it off,” he added and Dipper nodded feeling a bit embarrassed. Stan was right, it was rude of him. Maybe he was over thinking it. Maybe if he got to know Billie he could figure out what her connection to the Journal was and if he could trust her. Yeah, that seemed right.

****~*~** **

“They’re gonna figure it out Stan,” Billie said as she took a drag off her smoke. They sat on the front porch the forest quiet around them and the kids long off to bed. Her knee bounced nervously as she pulled it up under her and she glanced over at the man who waved his hand dismissively his cigar trailing smoke as he did so.

“Yur bein’ paranoid kid,” he told her as he took a puff and rolled his eyes.

“Am I? I’ve met professional instigators that are less effective than Mabel and Dipper has spent three days staring at my hand,” she replied somewhat sharply and he rolled his eyes at her again.

“Mabel is like that with everyone. Seriously she knew everything about the mailman in her first 15 minutes at the shack,” he told her, “And Dipper is obsessed with anything that’s….different,” he added glancing at her hand as he tried to find a delicate word.

“Yeah, so if he’s obsessed how long is it gonna take him to figure out I hand six fingers and so did _you?_ ” she demanded rolling her eyes, “From there it’s a hop skip and ah’ jump away from figuring out that I’m related to you guys some how. And I told Mabel that my day grew up with you,” she growled.

“Look kid, they don’t know I had six fingers. If they did you can bet Dipper would have asked me all sorts of questions about it,” he assured her, “Hell, they don’t even know their grandpa and I even had another brother,” he added and she felt her face scrunch in confusion.

“They don’t know about Stanley? At all?” she asked and he shook his head his face going stony and his eyes closing off. He always did that when Stanley was mentioned.

“No, we don’t talk about him,” he told her and she felt her eyes narrow, “We all kind of pretend he didn’t exist. The kid’s Dad only met him twice when he was a baby, and given that Stanley was…,” he paused for a moment to find the words, “…worthless to the family we never mention him. So don’t worry about it, okay?” he growled sounding angry. Billie felt an uncomfortable twist in her stomach at the description of her father. She had figured that Stanley had been the black sheep just because of the way he lived, but she hadn’t thought that they would _erase_ him. It felt so wrong, and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

Billie and Stan never really talked about her Father. The few times he’d come up Stanford always sounded sad and frustrated, changing the subject as quickly as he could. It had always seemed odd, but she had left it alone. But with how angry Stan sounded at the moment she suddenly had the urge to find out. When she had been tracking Stanley and then his brothers down she hadn’t dug too deeply into his personal life beyond his movements. While she possessed a copy of his extensive criminal record she hadn’t done more then skim it, but maybe she should. For all her laisezfaire attitude when she was in Gravity Falls she was damned good at her job, and when she decided to she could find anything about anyone.

“Okay,” she said evenly seeing it would be best to let sleeping dogs lie with Stan right now, “I’ll believe you,” she added and he nodded as he stubbed his cigar out before heaving himself up on his feet.

“Good, get some sleep kid,” he rumbled as he stretched his back popping loudly, “Soos is off tomorrow to see his girlfriend who’s up. I’m gonna need you to help run tours tomorrow,” he added and she flashed a smile and nodded.

“Sure thing Stanford. I’ve cooked up a few new tales for ‘em,” she said as he pushed the door open and stepped back into the Shack. Turning her eyes out to the forest she sat quietly her mind whirring to life as she began going back through everything she knew about her Father to decide where to start.


	7. New Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper decides talking to Billie is the answer. Billie decides the whole family requires full background investigations. And she gets to meet a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all I hope your well. So sorry that it's been a minute but as we all know the world is in chaos. I am currently the only one in my house working and trying to support three others who are high risk. Due to that I've been massively stressed out and busy. Still I finally managed to get this together to go up. Hope you all enjoy it. Be safe out there and take care of yourselves and others.

“...and next ladies and gentlemen we have a creature so rare…so illusive that only the truest explorers have seen it. I give you the Cucuk-ig,” Billie said with a flamboyant flourish at a hog with wings carefully attached to its back, “Now I know that it may seem too good to be true but I assure you I personally brought this specimen back from the deepest bowls of the Amazon,” she told the tour she led leaning towards them as though imparting some great secret, “You see most people believe that the phrase ‘when pigs fly’ was coined to refer to something impossible. But it actually comes from the people of the Bulspita region where these creatures live. You see the phrase actually refers to early July when these amazing creatures migrate to their breeding grounds. The natives coined the phrase in reference to their harvest season which aligns with their migration,” she said her voice carrying the tone of a scholar looking around at the rubes a few of which looked skeptical, “Now of course when I heard the locals claims of flying pigs I scoffed but a native man offered to take me to see them. And so we embarked on a four week trek into the deepest groves of the Amazon. It was slow going as we cut through undergrowth so thick….,” she said launching into a story of grand adventure.

Dipper couldn’t help but think she looked like she had walked out of the jungle; heavy tan cargos were slung low on her hips, a black tank top hugged her form under an unzipped grey green cargo vest, and worn heat boots served at the basis for her persona. Fingerless black gloves and a red bandanna tied loosely around her neck sold the Laura Croft vibe along with her heavy black curls spilling in a wild mess about her face and shoulders. He noticed that her southern drawl had changed into a smooth English clip lending to the mysterious adventurer role. Dipper knew that to be roped into Stan's show you had to have a costume and he was kind of jealous of hers, it was a far cry better then gluing dog hair to yourself and dancing for money.

“Man she is really good at this,” Dipper observed from the counter where he leaned next to Wendy, “Like she kinda puts Stan to shame.”

“Oh yeah man,” Wendy said as they watched tourist eat up the black haired woman’s words leaning in as she spoke, "The stuff she shows up with is actually pretty cool, and she comes up with stories that could totally be a comic book. She’s like one of the coolest people I know. I mean I know that she's a total sham like Stan but sometimes I wonder if she really does go off on super cool adventures like some kind of Iowa Jane. Even my Dad thinks she's a bad ass."

"Really?" he said as he watched the for group scramble at shove money at her as she touted only $5 to get their picture taken with the pig. More then a few asked her to pose with them which she did gladly flashing winning smiles and peace signs for the camera. Watching her he couldn't help but think she looked like he though the author would; adventurous, daring, and brave.

"Hey...so I was thinking. You know how Billie has six fingers, " He stared causing Wendy to raise a brow her eyes shooting over to him.

"Yeah dude but she's kinda sky about it so maybe not..., " she offered quickly and he held up his hands shaking his head.

"No, no! Listen, " He said quickly, "The Journal has a six fingered left hand on the front. She has six fingers on her left hand, " He said and she shot up from her slouch on the counter to stare at him.

"Dude! Do you think she's the author!?! " Wendy asked her eyes wide and eager as they shot over to Billie who was now telling the eager crowd about the mermaid Stan had, "She totally could be. I mean she's a PI but who knows what she's actually investigating. It would totally make since."

"Well that's what I thought but Mabel pointed out that the book is super old. So Soos thinks she might be the authors daughter, " He told her bouncing in excitement at the redhead's sudden enthusiasm, "Mabel found out that her Dad grew up with Stan, but he died when she was young. The Journal Author said he hid it because he was in danger. What if her Dad was the Author and she came here looking for answers...for the Journals?" he said his own excitement bubbling up as he shared his theory with his favorite person.

"Whoa..., " she said looking down at him, "We have to ask her! She could be the key to figuring it out! "

"No, I mean not yet, " he said quickly, "I mean what if she's not? I think we should do some investigation first. I mean look at Gideon. He got a hold of one of them and went nuts. And the shape shifter...well you we're there. I think we should be careful here, " he said glancing over at the woman.

"Well, I mean I know Billie and she's pretty cool. She helped Tambry and I out... " Wendy started.

"What’re you two over here conspirin’ ‘bout ? " Billie's voice broke in causing both of them to jump. She seemed to have dropped the fake english accent her heavy drawl replacing it as she eyed both of them a lazy half smile pulling at her lips.

"Nothing! " they said in unison causing Billie's lips to twist in amusement as she cocked a brow. Eyeing them let let out a hum of disbelief.

"Yeah, y’all look as innocent as a fox in the hen house, " she drawled, "I'ma go pick up some burgers at Greasy's y’all want anything?” she asked as she leaned against the counter.

“Heck yeah. Double cheese burger please,” Wendy said with a laugh. With a nod Billie turned her emerald eyes on Dipper who stood staring up at her with red ears.

“What ‘bout you Bud?” she asked cocking a brow and he blushed even deeper as one hand came up to scratch the back of his neck. Just like his Grunkle, and her if she was honest. Must run in the family, she supposed.

“Uhhhh, sure. Thank,” he said as he shook himself slightly looking down to his feet before glancing up at her sheepishly, “Want me to come along to help?” he asked and she blinked in suprise. She seemed to hesitate as he waited anxiously; if he went with her maybe he could ask her some questions. After a minute she rolled a shoulder and gave a nervious smile.

“Sure, an extra pair ah hands never hurts,” she replied after a second and was rewarded with a beaming smile, “Well, get a move on. I aint waitin’ all day,” she said as she spun and headed out to the door to the El Diablo. Dipper looked at Wendy who widened her eyes and looked after Billie.

“Go dude,” she said and he scampered out the door after her. Clamering into the car he quickly pulled the seat belt on an watched as she slid into the front seat and started the car. Pulling out of the drive way she headed towards town. Glancing in the rear view mirror at the kid in the back seat. He was fidgeting as he stared at her from under the brim of his hat. A heavy silence filled the car as both of them seemed to think of something to say. After a few tense moments Billie cleared her throat.

“So…Stan says you like weird stuff,” she said breaking the silence and he let out a nervous laugh. 

“Yeah,” he said looking up at her in the rear view mirror, “The stuff around here is crazy. You said you’ve seen the gnomes, right? On our first day they decided to kidnap Mabel and make her their queen. When she said no they tried to kidnap her. Did you know that they can stack themselves into a giant mecha gnome?” he asked and she rolled her eyes and left out a huff of laughter.

“No, I didn’t,” she told him, “I know they’re nasty little varmints that’ll try an steal anything not nailed down. I like the ‘lil campfires that scuttle ‘round the woods, though,” she told him and his ears perked up.

“I haven’t seen those,” he said eagerly, “Do you think you could show me one. I’d like to add it to the jor…letters I’m writing home,” he caught himself his voice cracking. She cocked a brow at his stumble over his words but decided to leave it be.

“Sure, there’s one that seems ta hang out in the woods behind the Shack. I give it marshmallows every time I come visit so he’ll usually show up if I shake a bag an’ whistle,” she told him, “You’ll ‘ave ta show me some o’ the weird stuff you’ve found. We just wont tell Stan since he likes ta pretend that ‘weird’ ain’t a thing,” she said and he let out an uncomfortable laugh.

“Yeah, it took me raising a hoard of zombies to get him to admit it,” he said causing Billie’s eyes to fly open wide and her head to jerk back to look at him.

“What?!” she said before remembering that she was driving, “That’s…alarmin’ on a few levels kid,” she told him and he turned red as he scrunched down to hide in his vest causing her to wince, “I mean zombies being real and all,” she said quickly even though she had to wonder how the hell he had managed to raise the dead.

“Oh yeah, but you can cure the it with paint thinner and cinnamon,” he said and she had to bite her cheeks not to say anything, “We fixed Soos up after and he’s fine,” he added as she pulled up to Greasy’s. Turning around she handed Dipper a hand full of bills.

“I called Susan already. Go grab the food,” she told him, “And try not to summon any zombies on your way,” she told him and he grinned as he nodded hopping out. Watching him go she shook her head, she was going to have to ask Stan about the zombie thing. And figure out how in the hell he knew how to summon zombies, that didn’t seem safe for a 12 year old to be doing as a past time. Great more homework. Maybe she should just do full investigations on the whole damned family and save herself some time.

~*~

Billie sat on Wendy’s hide out one leg dangling over the edge head resting in her hand as she stared at her lap top. She was reading Filbrick Pine’s service record. And man was it a read, apparently Grandpa was a bad ass who’d served honorably kicking some serious Nazi ass in WW2. While she had Stanley’s life pretty well plotted out from 18 and beyond, that didn’t help her figure out why his whole family had erased him. To understand that she needed to understand her family, which meant learning the in and outs of it. And what she was finding was slowly paint a picture of dysfunction that made her feel slightly less out of place.

Idly she pushed the thick glasses up her nose. It was late and she had changed into her basket ball shorts and t-shirt after the kids had gone to bed, and her contacts had been bugging her. Normally she hated wearing the stupid coke bottle lenses but she was blind as a bat without them. Sticking her pen between her lips she chewed on it lightly in between jotting down notes in the book beside her. So far she had pieced together that Filbrick had served front lines for most of the war, and done it stoically. He’d been one of the first ones on sight of three concentration camp liberalizations, and his psych eval.s suggested that he had repressed most of the trauma from such service. Though he met much of the criteria for PTSD as laid down by the APA.

Depending on the severity of it he would have…her eyes snapped open as she jerked up. She’d been dozing, it was late and a day spent hustling for Stan was more tiring then one might think. Sighing she set the laptop aside and brought the cigarette in her fingers to her lips taking a long drag the cherry flaring to illuminate the bright blue paper of the barrel of it. Cracking her neck she looked out over the yard and out into the trees. A heavy mist had descended around them obscuring the shapes below; changing them into shifting twisting shadows. The horrors of her subconscious just waiting to rise up and consume her if she let them. Good thing Lucid dreaming was a thing; if it wasn’t she’d probably be a full blown alcoholic instead of just a functioning one.

“Well, well, well, you’re new,” came a voice from behind her that sent shivers down her spine. It was soft yet reverberated around her and one that she didn’t recognize. She knew her demons and this wasn’t one of the. Taking another drag she held the cigarette up and cocked her head watching the smoke curling up and away into the stars that spiraled lazily above them.

“So are you,” she said after a moment with out turning. A chilling laugh came from behind her as the demon moved circling her. She didn’t look up to follow it’s progress but she saw it; a yellow pyramid with a giant eye. The dapper little bow tie and top hat added a touch that was both sinister and comical.

“Hmmmm, you don’t fit,” he said as he stopped in front of her, “A real Wild Card. Nice hand, I love freaks,” he laughed and she finally looked up at him cocking a brow he lips twisting in boredom.

“Huh, guess I’m running out of imagination. I’d think my subconscious would be able to come up with new material,” she sighed rolling her eyes, “So what are you? New form of self loathing? Manifestation of trauma? Representation of budding Body Dysmorphic Disorder? she asked and he laughed as he looked down at the mist and the figures that swarmed there.

“As delightful as that stew of crazy is I’m not part of it,” he laughed floating lazily around her, “No, I’m something so much more,” he assured her stopping hover over the pages of her notebook and looking down at them, “Looking for Pine Family secrets, huh? I could help you know,” he laughed as he raised his hand and the pages exploded to float around them, “I know things, lots of things,” he added his voice distorting to a deeper growl as his body began flashing a million images at once, some she recognized and a lot more she didn’t, “I could help you you know. Infinite knowledge and all it takes is a hand shake,” he said his hand bursting into blue flames as he offered it to her. She stared at him her face expressionless except for a single brow twitching as the pages swirled around them each displaying a picture of her family moving in mute memories.

“Okay enough of that,” she said snapping her fingers the pages returning to a normal notebook causing Bill’s eye to widen slightly as she looked up at him a vicious kind of smile pulling at her lips, “Look here Bill. This is my dream. I don’t know what you are but I don’t make deals without knowing the stakes. So whatever you are you can leave. My whole job is finding out secrets and I don’t need no help. So crawl back under what ever walk you came from. I’m waking up now,” she told him snapping her fingers again.

Billie jerked awake finding the stars over her fixed in their proper places. Shaking herself she sat up and looked down at her notebook the pages fluttering in the light summer breeze of the night. There in the corner of the page was a simple doodle of a triangle with a top hat.

“Well that’s new,” she said looking down at the lines.

**Author's Note:**

> *eventually. Like I said there's a fair amount that happens in the time line of the series and while Dan makes a few appearances the series era posts will focus more on the Pines family dynamics and the Dan OC story line picks up after the series. 
> 
> **Trolls and Flamers will be unceremoniously ignored, because I seriously have better things to do than feed you
> 
> ***I said I'd get around to it and I did...eventually. I have a million talents coming up with snazzy eye catching titles isn’t one. I'm not even 100% sure that the current title is all that great. Don’t judge me I'm and author not a PR person.


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